The Legend of Black Wolf - Sully's Journey Home
by Carrie Aulenbacher
Summary: The years between Abigail's death and meeting Michaela are not detailed in the Dr. Quinn series, so here is my attempt to fill in that gap. What was Sully's life like after loosing his wife and baby? How did he come to terms with the tragedy? How did he meet Cloud Dancing and come back to Colorado Springs? How did he evolve to the man Michaela fell in love with? Read on...
1. Chapter 1

I've been searching the net to find you Sully fans some good fanfiction, and I have found a lot of interesting stories, but none that I've found so far really told the story of the years between the death of Abigail and his meeting of Michaela. So, I've tried my hand at forming a story to fill in that gap. I welcome your comments - the good and the bad!

This can also be found on the Byron Sully Fan Page on Facebook, where the fanfic was started. Enjoy!

As the rifle smoke cleared, Byron Sully watched from his hidden spot on the hill as the camp surrounded the man he'd just killed. A woman, the Major's wife, came flying out of her tent, skirts a blur of color, her screams piercing the countryside. Then, children followed her, and as Sully heard their cries, he began to hear the cries of another, long lost but never forgotten. The family surrounded their patriarch and howled. The Major's wife cradled his freshly shaved face in her hands and kissed his brow. Her wailing drove Sully from his hiding place, up the hill, and back the way he came.

The orders had never mentioned anything about the confederate, just that this was a target that was sure to turn the tide of the war. Beyond getting his job done, Sully hadn't thought anything of the man's personal life. Now, watching the family surround the man's dead body, his heart started hammering. He'd just killed a family man, someone's father, someone's soul mate.

Had he really just killed someone in cold blood?

As he snuck away from the encampment, Sully tried to tell himself he'd just done a good thing. He tried to tell himself he'd just changed the power struggle between the Union and Confederate armies. The man he had killed had needed to die. He hurried to get back to camp and report in that his mission had been accomplished. But something inside Lieutenant Byron Sully felt the exact opposite of honorable. Deep in his heart, he piled the killing on top of other sorrows he would never forgive himself for.

All is fair in love and in war, Sully had once heard someone say. But he had never known it to be true. He had tried to love, and his deep love had ended, not fairly at all. He had been punished for stealing away a woman who was already promised to another, and he would never stop blaming himself for her death. That regret had driven him to the front lines of battle, searching for the only honorable death he could think of to redeem himself. Now he felt a failure here, too. In trying to run away from his heartbreak, he had only sunk lower, in his mind. In the Army, he was called a sniper, but to him, he'd always feel like a murderer.

That night, he did not sleep.

It was four more days of marching before they reached their next point of attack. That night they made camp, and the Colonels of three different regiments joined together in the center of camp for a supper with the men. Everyone was talking about the attack that was being planned in just two short days. Some spoke boldly of how many they'd killed. Some talked of loved ones they waited to see again. All rested and prepared for what could be their last days on Earth. But Sully finished packing his supplies and cleaned his gun in silence, his tent not even pitched.

He'd been given his orders earlier in the day to set up on a secluded ridge under cover of darkness and be prepare to take out another big target as early in the morning as possible before the rest of the men started their attack. The Colonel wanted to give Sully time to set up a clean shot, which would make the rebel forces weaker and easier to take over. Sully had packed rations to keep him supplied without need of fire, and prepared to leave once everyone was eating.

As he slipped out of camp, he couldn't resist ducking into the Colonel's tent while nobody was looking. The Major he'd killed haunted his every waking moment, and, now that he was being sent to kill another, he had to find out what he could. If there was any information to be learned, the Colonel would have it stashed in his trunk that had been unloaded earlier.

As luck would have it, the Colonel had left his trunk unlocked when he left for dinner. Sully hid himself behind the makeshift desk and shuffled through the papers by the light of a single lantern that hung from the corner of the tent. When he laid his hand on the order with his name printed on it, there was little printed there other than what he'd been told. Nothing in the order told of anything about the man or his life. Sully slipped out of the tent, dejected, and began to make his way towards the ridge.

But with every step, he kept hearing the cries of the Major's wife ringing in his ears. The sounds of his regiment were but faint echoes behind him when his steps halted in the seclusion of the woods. Would this next target also have a wife? Did he have little children who called him 'Daddy'? In the least, this target had a group of rebel soldiers that looked up to him to carry them through the battle, they devoted their lives to the cause and would lay down their lives for their leader. Without him, their strategy would crumble and dozens more would die. Family upon family, torn apart by the bloody battles, dragging on all around him. Yet Sully went on, never seeing the front line, but creeping through the darkness like a thief. He felt others would think him too cowardly to stand up in daylight with the other men. On and on his morbid thoughts reeled until he realized he was way off course in the woods that now surrounded him.

Sully crouched near a tree in the dim moonlight and tried to quiet his guilty thoughts. But the regret on his heart was too much to ignore. He'd destroyed his own family, now he'd destroyed the family of another man, and he couldn't march another step forward in the order to go execute a third man, destroy a third life, a third family. He couldn't make himself pull the trigger again if his life depended on it. He was heartsick with what he'd become.

Leaning back against an old oak tree, he rested his head against the barrel of his rifle, and for the first time since the dark night that his wife and baby died, he prayed to the Lord above to help him decide upon the right thing to do.

'Lord, if You are there, show me the way.'

Sully prayed, repeating the words over and over for several long minutes.

Then, in the darkness, he changed his course, covered his tracks, and slipped away.


	2. Chapter 2

Late the next morning, several miles from where he should be, Sully stumbled upon a low outcropping of rocks and hid himself to sleep through the day. He dare not travel by day in his uniform, knowing eventually, someone would get word back to the Army and he very well knew the outcome that would befall him then. Desertion was a charge almost too severe to think about at the moment. All he wanted was to be away from the killing, away from the war, away from a society that only seemed to live for death.

Out of sheer exhaustion, he fell asleep until late afternoon. A misty dream full of painful screams awoke him at last, almost causing him to crack his head on the rocks beneath which he was wedged. Sweat was dripping off of him, although it was cool underneath the outcropping. After some rations, he walked again until he came upon a stream. Filling his canteen, he washed up as best he could and continued on throughout the night. Since the attack on the rebel forces behind him wasn't for another whole day, Sully felt confident that he could cover enough ground before the battle started. If he pushed himself, nobody would be able to find him by the time they realized he was missing.

Keeping to the forest, he managed over a dozen miles in two days. Then he hid himself before the clearing to wait out the afternoon before continuing. But the worry of changing into different clothes to conceal his identity was becoming an issue too much to ignore anymore. Removing his hat and stashing all his gear in an old tree, Sully circumvented the town until he came upon a farmhouse a few miles away that had wash hanging out on the line. Two beautiful white mares stood in the paddock near the house, and upon seeing them, he formulated a plan. Creeping up to the fence quietly, he let the horses out, who were all too happy to neigh and buck and take off down the road. Hiding behind the woodpile, Sully watched as the woman of the house and her three young children took off down the road after the horses. Taking his chance, Sully ran to the wash hanging on the line and took what he needed of the husband's clothes and ran back to safety.

Changing in the forest, the pants were a little short, but they would have to do. He removed all the patches from his uniform and buried it in the woods. He couldn't be found with it on his person, and he couldn't leave it to be found with the Lieutenant's patches on it, otherwise, they might figure out it was from him. He would have to dispose of the patches later, somewhere that was more secure.

When it was safe, he traveled during the night again, and went past three towns before he came upon a town near the railroad. Here, he felt the townspeople would have seen enough strangers from what the train brought in, and he dared to go into town during the day to ask for a shave. Next to his uniform, his sideburns were the next biggest identifying mark and they had to go. Using what little he had on him from his Army wages, he walked tentatively into the barber shop and asked for a shave.

His heart was hammering as the barber lazily went about his work, chattering on and on about the war. Sully sat in the chair, gripping the arms as if it were the first shave he'd ever received. At any second, Sully was sure that someone would walk in, recognize him, and arrest him. But the visit to this town was uneventful, and before he knew it, he was walking back out of town on rubber legs. He was clean-shaven, and nobody had given him a second glance. When he reached a bend in the road out of sight of the town, he dropped back into the woods.

It had now been two weeks since he had deserted.

The night of the great feast should have been one of happy celebration for the great tribe of Cheyenne Indians that occupied the hills and grasslands just east of Colorado Springs. The previous day, their greatest warriors had brought down the largest buffalo any of them had ever seen. Chief Black Kettle proudly told his tribe that this was a sign from the great spirits that the next few months would be a time of prosperity among the people. But not all agreed that this was a good sign.

Everyone had spent the day preparing food and fires. The children had raced around to find the best berries and plants to make great war paint for the warriors to use in their dances that evening. Some freshened the collection of ceremonial headdresses with fresh feathers, while others sang and pounded out songs on their drums. Every part of the buffalo was blessed as it was used, with Cloud Dancing, their medicine man, presiding over it all. He spoke blessings to the Great Spirit over all the food, the hide, and the bones. His voice rang out for all to hear. When he was finished, a happy war cry went up among the braves, and the celebration was fully under way. But of the dream he had been given the night before, he spoke not a word.

His wife, Snow Bird, watched him as they joined in the feast that night. She had known that her husband had not slept well, if at all, the night before. At one point, he had sat up next to her, shaking her awake in his haste. But he had not said what had kept him from sleep, and he had left the tent very early soon after to spend time with the spirits. After many winters together, she had learned that, as the wife of a medicine man, she had a special role. She had been chosen for her patience and her giving nature. She gave Cloud Dancing time to hear the sacred words from the spirits and she never pushed him in certain duties the other husbands did in the tribe. His role was one that demanded much of his time be given to others, and she never asked for more than he was willing to share with her. In this way, she supported him and never gave him cause to worry about her. It was she who worried about him.

As the celebration continued, Cloud Dancing stepped back from the dancing and took a walk around the tents, scouring the coming darkness for a shadow that was nowhere to be found. The dream had come to him without him seeking a message, and it bothered him all the more. In the dream, a black wolf was coming towards him, through the tall grass. It had no pack with it, there was no way it could hide such dark fur among the yellow grasses, and it did not seem to be coming fast, but walking slowly.

It was enough of a bad sign that he was almost sorry to hear, later that morning, that the braves had brought in a large buffalo. He had wanted to prevent Black Kettle from telling the tribe what a good sign this kill was, but he wasn't sure enough of the dream to say anything about it just yet. He didn't anticipate the feast to go as well as it did, he expected the bad sign to manifest at any moment. But, before he knew it, he was back in his tent. Snow Bird was asleep at his side, the night was quiet, and nothing had come.

Not yet.


	3. Chapter 3

The days turned into weeks for Sully as he made his way back across the plains, back to Colorado. His abilities as a sniper had sent him on distant campaigns in the past year and a half, and he had no real way of telling just how far he was from Colorado. Without benefit of town names and main roads, he had nothing to rely on but his training. Following the sunsets through the trees and keeping the moon at his back, he kept himself on a westward trail. There was a compass in his knapsack, but the last time he had used it, he had orphaned innocent children. He was loathe to touch it now.

He'd managed to find an isolated pond one early morning a week after he'd fled, and there he threw the rifle in, as far as he could. The water covered the evidence with a settling ripple, and his load felt a little lighter without the deadly weapon ever on his shoulder. For some reason, he didn't trust the patches to the same fate, and they stayed in his pack as he traveled on.

The prayer he had sent up to Heaven that first night he deserted was a prayer for guidance, and he continued it as the miles dragged on before him. Feeling he could never be forgiven for all his mistakes, the only place he could think of to go was the only place that had ever truly felt like home to him. And so he sought out the land where he had once known his only love. He searched for shelter and hiding places until he could return to the forbidden land where he had buried his sweet wife and their tiny baby.

It was there and only there that he felt he could die and rest in peace.

By mornings, if he couldn't find a cave or an outcropping, he would hide himself in the trees to be sure he wouldn't be seen as he slept. But with only thoughts of Abigail on his mind, his sleep was scattered with haunting dreams of her. Sometimes, he woke himself up, calling out her name.

They weren't all bad dreams of the night she died. Some of the dreams were sweet memories that time and tragedy could not turn bitter. Most were ordinary times that they had spent in the small cabin he had built for both of them after her father had disowned her. Nights they would play checkers close to the fire, or days they had spent together, tending her little garden out back. During those times, all his regret was lifted from his heart, and he felt himself smiling again. He loved seeing her shining young face, her dark curly hair framing that sweet smile that she reserved only for him. He felt young again.

One night, he dreamed of the day he decided he would stay in Colorado Springs and not continue on with the mining that had driven him to Pike's peak in the thirst for gold. He had lived through a cave-in that had nearly ended his life. Sully figured that, if he couldn't be sure of when his time would be called up, he wanted his last moments to be filled with memories of beautiful places, not just of dirt and the cries of crushed men being smothered in inky blackness.

And so, Sully had followed the gold rush west, thinking he could be climbing mountains and seeing the vast untamed wilderness while searching for the nugget that would make him rich. He'd found that the nearby town held a beautiful view of an entirely different nature.

She had been out in front of Bray's Mercantile, restocking a cart full of apples the day he'd come in to pick up supplies. The shop keeper had been instructing another young man on the importance of watching for any ruffians who might be lingering outside to steal merchandise. She finished with her task just as Sully approached. As she straightened, Sully's young heart hammered in a way he'd never felt before.

She was in a spring green dress with long sleeves that were fashionable, but not too delicate. Her hands were used to work, but from the look of her long fingers, he imagined she could be wonderful at playing the piano in a grand parlor, too. And that hair! Black curls that hypnotized Sully were framing her face. He had never known a woman, and all he wanted to do from that moment on was to run his hand through those lush, silky curls.

Their eyes met and she gave him the private smile he would grow to love deeply. But before he could even smile back, the store owner, her father, ushered her back inside to help with another task.

"Come along, Abigail. Your mother needs help with those notions we got in, if you're finished." The store owner had said. And Sully's poor smitten heart had been ushered inside right along with her.

This dream had resulted in him waking up, sobbing. It had been a while since he had thought of that first moment of meeting Abigail. Sometimes, the nightmares of her death eclipsed how beautiful her face had been in happier times. With all of this in the forefront of his mind, Sully became more depressed than ever. The pain in his heart drove him on. It was because of him and his passion for Abigail that he had wooed her away from Martin Anderson, her betrothed. It was because of Sully that she was disowned by Loren when they ran off to marry. It was because of his love that she had gotten pregnant and died in the cabin, too far gone for even Mrs. Cooper to save either one of them by the time he ran for help.

A few days after that, Sully had tried to keep from sleeping, making up more miles than he should've attempted to on such little food and rest. The woods and secluded trails became a blur as he covered the terrain at a breakneck pace. He thought that he could avoid the dreams if he avoided sleep. But after sitting through a downpour early one morning, he not only had to admit to himself that he was completely exhausted, but that he was coming down with a fever.

Weeks had passed since the buffalo feast. Crops had been good, hunting had been even better, and everyone in the tribe was at ease and ready for the coming winter season. But Cloud Dancing still held the worry in his heart that the bad omen of the black wolf dream still lingered in the shadows, waiting to strike at his people when they least expected it.

Snow Bird said nothing, but began cooking larger and larger meals. He knew without asking that this meant she worried. Whenever he communed with the spirits a long time and did not eat enough, she started making bigger meals, full of delicious extras just for him. She considered it her job to keep him well and strong to be able to take care of the tribe. He tried to eat more to keep her from worrying.

Yet one night, he could not take it any longer. He told her he had to stay in another tent for a while, praying for a sign that he could not tell her about yet. It was too cold and too late in the year to go on a vision quest, but he could isolate himself within the tribe and seek spiritual counsel that way.

After two days and nights of prayer, he fell into a deep sleep. There again, he saw the black wolf, but this time, he studied it more. He did not want the dream to end like before. As he watched, he noticed that the black wolf was still alone, still walking slowly, and that there was something in its fur. In his dream state, Cloud Dancing watched from afar, and, as the wolf passed in front of him, he could make out that they were broken off shafts of two arrows. Both arrows were deep in the wolf's side, almost as if they had entered at the same point. But this was all he saw.

Upon waking, Cloud Dancing felt this was a good sign. That he saw the black wolf again was still a bad omen, but a wounded omen meant that it was not as severe a threat to his people as he had thought. There could still be trouble, but they would be able to survive it. He began to think the sign referred to the coming winter. There were two new brides in the tribe that were with child. Perhaps that was what the two arrows symbolized. He decided to watch the two women more carefully and be sure he had given them the proper herbs to protect their new children from any growing harm.

It eased Cloud Dancing's mind enough that he took back to his own tent with Snow Bird. His appetite returned in earnest, and he formulated his plan to battle the bad spirit as best he could. He confided in the tribe elders about what he had dreamed and what it meant. They agreed on Cloud Dancing's interpretation.

But the black wolf had other plans.


	4. Chapter 4

With most of Sully's strength gone, he awoke to a fever he knew he couldn't outrun. Days and nights in the damp had taken their toll after weeks on the run. His inability to find enough food after his rations had run out hadn't helped, either. And, as much as he wanted his journey to be over, he wanted to die next to his beloved. He couldn't let it end in the middle of nowhere. And so, that last morning, he pushed himself onward, finally coming across an old farmhouse.

The building had seen better days, but there was smoke at the chimney and the sound of someone chopping wood, so he knew there was someone home. As afraid as he was of someone recognizing him and having him arrested, he felt too sick to stay in the woods any longer. His plan was to beg them to let him help them out on their property for the winter in return for lodging in the barn and some food. The worst they could do is run him off and he would be back where he was.

Walking up to the barn behind the house, he came upon an old man who was at the chopping block. A small pile of fresh wood lay at his feet. As he let the axe rest, he reached for a dingy handkerchief. Sully cleared his throat to make himself known.

The sound all but made the old man jump out of his skin. Clearly, they lived where they didn't see many travelers or visitors. As the old man's eyes rested on Sully, his shoulders eased a bit. The sight of this sickly man before him told him that he couldn't mean any harm; he wasn't much more than a bag of bones.

"Excuse me sir, I don't mean to disturb ya, but I thought I would stop and ask if you're looking to take on any hands for the winter?" Sully asked, his voice sounding hoarse and foreign to him. As the old man stood there, taking in the sight, it occurred to Sully that he hadn't spoken to another person since his shave and that had been about two months ago.

"Son, why don't you come sit down." The old man said, coming to life after pocketing his handkerchief. He reached for Sully's arm and led him to sit on the stump that served as the chopping block. "You goin' home from the war?" The old man pointed to the bag Sully was still travelling with. He had been so consumed with thoughts of Abigail over the past days and weeks that it had slipped his mind to discard his army issued pack. His pins and patches still rested in the bottom, safely hidden from view.

"California." Sully lied, hating himself as he did so. But the less the old man knew, the better.

"Well, ain't we mighty proud to have ya here!" The old man said. "Name's Ezra Botkins." He stuck out his hand, taking off his hat in respect as he did so. Sully shook his hand.

"Sully." He blurted out without really thinking. The thirst that had consumed him ever since he'd contracted the fever was more important than safe-guarding his name from the old man, and he hoped they didn't get newspapers way out here, in the middle of nowhere.

"Mini!" The old man shouted towards the house. "Git out here!"

"Please, sir, I don't mean to intrude." Sully said again, slightly flinching as the man shouted for his wife.

"No harm at'all, Son. Minerva will be dang charmed to have one of you brave boys here. Gives her somethin' ta fuss over 'sides me." The old man chuckled and clapped Sully on the shoulder. Then he shouted for his wife again. A tiny woman came out of the backdoor of the homestead, a pipe in her mouth.

"Tarnation, Ezra! What're ya—" As she began to nag Ezra for breaking the peaceful silence of the morning, she spied Sully on the chopping stump next to him. Nearly dropping her pipe, she came out with a charming smile on her face, suddenly wanting to make a good impression for their unexpected and very disheveled visitor. Sully stood to introduce himself.

"I'm really sorry for botherin' you folk, ma'am. Name's Sully." He stuck his hand out. She shook his hand demurely while never taking her eyes off of his face. "I know I've missed harvest, but I'm looking for work, possibly through the winter." She held her pipe in one hand, smoking forlornly.

"He's on his way home, Mini. Been a'fightin' those dang rebels." Ezra offered.

"And when's the last time they fed you, Mr. Sully?" Mini asked him. "You're about starved, I'd say."

"Yes, ma'am." Sully answered. "I'm willing to work for whatever you can spare." He sensed a look passing between the old couple as he said this.

"Spare?" The old woman laughed. "Nothin's ta spare for one of our brave boys! No sir!" She took his hand in her tiny one and began to drag him towards the house. "Mr. Sully, if you will do us the privilege, we'd love ta thank you for fightin' by fattin' you up agin before'n ya see yore kin. Yore momma would never fergive me if'n I's ta send ya home a bag a bones!" Sully glanced back at Ezra, who just smiled and picked up his axe again while Mini chuckled and drug him into her warm kitchen. The old woman sat him at her kitchen table and began preparing a feast fit for Sully's whole regiment, let alone just the three of them.

As the old woman prattled on about everything under the sun, she started piling food in front of him and fresh hot coffee. After months in the woods with sometimes nothing more than nuts and berries, the smell of the coffee was like waking up from a terrible nightmare. Part of him cursed what he had been doing all this time, running himself to death, when he could have been living comfortably in another town. But the other part of him cursed himself for stopping for such luxuries as coffee. Somewhere was a widow who had to drink her coffee alone because Sully had murdered her husband. And back and forth his conscience went. But Mini never noticed.

He managed to eat and watched Mini work, unable to say or do anything else. She wouldn't hear of him lifting a finger to help until he was back to his old self. She didn't even necessarily wait for him to answer her as she chattered on. Her pride at being able to do something to help those who fought in place of Ezra, who was too old to enlist, did her poor little heart good, she said. She so wished that none of the horrible business had been started in the first place.

And so, as was his nature, Sully lapsed into a comfortable silence while he found the first rest since before Abigail passing in an old farmhouse kitchen, out in the middle of nowhere.

Black Kettle's group of Cheyenne weathered the cold months well, and he was pleased to see that the unions the year before had brought two strong babes into the tribe. This he still attributed to the buffalo that had come to them last season. With help of the medicine man's prayers and herbs, they had been able to avoid the bad spirit that had haunted Cloud Dancing months ago. He no longer dreamed of it coming towards the camp; the danger was over.

That spring, the tribe made its way closer to the summer hunting grounds to follow the buffalo as they migrated. Cloud Dancing monitored his tribe closely, making sure there were no illnesses or ceremonies that were not followed. The Great Spirit had kept them all safe in the cold times and now, he felt sure that a good year would follow. They had good hunting lately, and many worked on new hides to fix old tents and make new clothes for the growing children of the tribe.

One night on a very warm spring evening, Cloud Dancing sat outside his tent late into the night. He kept his fire going long after Snow Bird had gone to sleep. He was thinking long and hard about his son and a young squaw about his age that would be a good match for him. As much as he saw his son as still being a boy, it would only be a few more seasons before he was a man. And a man would need a wife.

Since he had been so long outside, he was sure to wake Snow Bird if he slept in the tent, and so he decided to stay by the fire. The air was warm, and, with a nearby blanket, he felt he would pass the evening just fine under the stars.

But as he slept that night, he was troubled with a dream of the black wolf. He had not seen or even thought about the black wolf since late last fall, before the cold weather had come. Now, he found himself in that same grassy place, watching from a safe distance as the black wolf began to walk towards him. It was still alone, still moving at a slow pace, he could even see the two shafts of the arrows stuck in its side. However, now the wolf was panting, even possibly limping. It passed Cloud Dancing on its way through the hunting grounds and towards where he had erected his tent.

The howl of an actual wolf in the night startled Cloud Dancing from his dream. With his fire merely coals, the night was dark around him. He listened for any approaching sound, but when the howl sounded again, it was clearly miles in the distance. Unable to return to sleep after that, he thought long and hard about the new details that had occurred since he had last dreamt of the black wolf. The wolf now panted as if having a hard time breathing. And, although not outright limping, it was walking with effort. The arrows most certainly were taking energy out of the wolf, yet on he proceeded, trying to get close to the tribe. Cloud Dancing considered this black wolf a great foe, determined to reach his people no matter who tried to stop him, or how.

It would drive Cloud Dancing to take a spirit quest as soon as the Cheyenne were at the summer grounds and settled. He could not risk ignoring this sign much longer.


	5. Chapter 5

That second Christmas without Abigail was one that Sully absolutely hated.

The cold that swept through their area took a bit of the livestock, and Sully felt responsible since he'd been trying to repair the old barn as best he could with what Ezra had. The Botkins had told Sully that it was alright; the cow and pigs that had died were old. Mini hadn't wanted him doing such hard labor as it was, since he'd barely had time to get settled when he started putting in long hours to earn his keep. His frame had still not filled out, and he was still weak, but he gave himself no room for excuses.

All that day, Sully had done the chores and the barn repairs in the bitter cold, pounding the last nails by lantern light, to make sure everything else was sealed tight. Mini hadn't been one for decorating, and she admitted that she had no hand for special desserts, but she made up a beautiful roasted duck with trimmings enough to stuff the three of them. She worked and fussed in the kitchen all day, and Sully was glad for the work to keep him out of the house. He worked up until the last minute, but by dinner, he was worn out and could no longer avoid going inside.

After their feast, Sully brought in wood and tended the fire while they sat and relaxed. Usually, after this, he retired to the barn to leave the old couple to talk before retiring. That night, however, Ezra urged Sully to stay and join them. Mini started up her pipe while Ezra talked to Sully about how well the repairs had turned out. After a while, Ezra got up and brought out a small package from the bedroom. He handed it gently to Mini.

"Merry Christmas, Minerva." He said. Her old face crinkled and lit up in the fire's glow as she slowly unwrapped her small gift. It was a new pipe that Ezra had carved himself. Her heartfelt thank you was so sweet that it stung Sully's heart a bit. He uncomfortably watched the fire and realized he'd nothing to give.

Mini pulled out a lump from her sewing basket that she'd wrapped in one of her kitchen napkins. She handed it to Ezra and told him merry Christmas as well.

"Let's see what 'ole Santy Claus brung me, eh, Sully?" Ezra chuckled like a child and slowly unwrapped two giant pairs of socks that Mini had made for him. As he unrolled them, he marveled at their size.

"Yer always a fussin' with those old 'uns." Mini told him. "So's this time, I made 'em long enough to come over the tops a yer boots!" She chuckled. Ezra reached out his hand and took hers and gave it a squeeze.

"I'm always a cussin' those old 'uns when they sneek down thare!" He laughed. She smiled. Sully forced a smile of his own. Just as he thought he'd excuse himself for the night, Ezra got up again and went back to the kitchen. This time, he came out with an old flour sack and handed it to Sully as he sat back down in his chair.

"What's this?" Sully asked. "Really, Ezra, ya don't—"

"Open it, dear." Mini urged, her face unable to hide her excitement. "It's Christmas." With a blush, Sully pulled on the strings of the old sack to reveal a brand new pair of work gloves. The fine leather was soft in his hands. They were thick too; suitable for all kinds of work.

"Yer never a'wearin' mine cuz they're a might too small, so when that thare trader feller came through last week, I picked ya out yer own pair." Ezra said, proudly.

"Try 'em on!" Mini said. Unable to look up at them, Sully slowly pulled the pair of gloves on and tested the stitches. They fit just fine, and Sully could tell they were well made. It couldn't have been cheap for the old couple to buy gloves like this, especially for someone like Sully, who was just passing through.

"I can't accept these. It's…much too..." Sully said.

"But don't they look fine!" Mini insisted. Sully slowly began to take the gloves off.

"I's readin' in the good book fore'n ya came, Sully." Ezra said. "There's a proverb I always enjoy that says 'Don't withhold from those t'whom good is due, when 'tis under yer pow'r ta do it.' And ya've been a blessin' t'me and Mini, here. You brung us a lot of help, even with ye bein' so sick n'all. Tis in my pow'r ta do you a bit a good fer all'n yer help." His old voice made the sage bible advice ring so true in the meager farmhouse that it stung. "Hope ye understand I'm only a'tryin' ta do what's right."

Sully stood suddenly, unable to keep his heavy heart contained any longer. They gazed up at him from their chairs in front of the fire and watched tears track down his face. He held the gloves tightly, thinking of all the things he'd never deserved and all the gifts he'd never get from those he missed most.

"Thank you." He said, so solemnly that the words were almost lost above the crackle of the flames in the hearth. Then he rushed out to the barn without another word.

Ezra was just some old man on the side of the road who happened to be chopping wood the day Sully was so sick he couldn't walk another step. He was just some old farmer stuck out in the middle of nowhere, with no kin, scraping out a mess of a living that would never amount to nothing. And yet, he and his wife couldn't have been more kind to him than if he were their own son.

Sully stood beside the ladder that led to the loft where he slept. He leaned his head against the worn barn post and cried while holding the gloves close to his side. These people hadn't just seen hard times, they'd lived in the midst of hard times so long it was etched into their faces. And still, through loosing livestock and children and money, they stuck together, got up every day with smiles, and followed the good book enough to give him a fine Christmas gift they couldn't afford. And all he was going to do was go home to Abigail and waste all this generosity. It sent his breaking heart into turmoil. He didn't know what to do. To lay down and die would be such an insult to these people, yet to carry on hurt so very badly.

As he stood there, he heard Ezra open the barn door and walk over. Sully took some deep breaths to calm himself down. Ezra's gnarled old hand came to rest on Sully's shoulder as he was still leaning against the barn post.

"It's ok, son. Jes let it all out. Ya don't gotta say nuthin'." Ezra said with the gentleness of a grandfather speaking to a small child. Sully remained quiet. "War's a terrible thing. Mini and I know not all scars are on the outside. Yer missin' yer kin's all. Ain't nobody blame ya fer that." He let his hand rest there a moment on Sully's shoulder before walking back to the house.

In the quiet of the barn loft as peaceful as the stable must have been on that holiest of nights, Sully's tormented heart cried out for home. In spite of Ezra's talk of the good book, Sully vowed he would not live to see another Christmas.

Sully left the Botkins farm that spring as soon as possible. He had been eternally grateful for both of them taking him in. They had simply been honored to help a veteran of the terrible civil war. He had chopped acres of wood for old Ezra, and helped his wife with some long out of reach house cleaning she couldn't tend to any more. They had both been grateful for him happening along their lonely stretch of road when he did and they were very sorry to see him go so soon. But the thought of staying on to help with spring planting was something Sully could not stay and do.

They weren't aware, but the intimate relationship between Ezra and Minerva was smothering him. They had run the entire farm between just the two of them for so long, they were almost two halves of the same person. Their shorthand way of speaking, their equal dividing of the work, and even the old jokes they still laughed at made him depressed. This was how he had envisioned him and Abigail spending their last years. The sweet closeness of the old couple drove him to the barn as soon as supper was finished. He didn't need the solitude, the Lord above knew that, but their love for each other made his lonely heart ache all the more. They simply decided he was missing his family too much.

So, Sully kept himself working so hard for the couple that he all but fell asleep before his head hit the feather pillow at night. If he ran out of chores, he headed out into the woods to bring them back something nice for supper. Two times he was fortunate enough to bring back deer that the Botkins were simply thrilled over. Then he took to sharpening all of Ezra's old tools and building a few new pieces of furniture, even. It left little time for memories.

Little by little, the dreams of Abigail wore at the comfort he'd found with the old couple. One evening, old Ezra even came out into the barn to check on him because he had heard Sully shout out for someone. Sully brushed it off, but knew, deep down, he had been hiding from things in this secluded old farmhouse. He had been avoiding the inevitable, and needed to get on with his journey. For all he'd tried to ignore, he had never for a second forgotten the guilt and remorse that hung about his neck like an iron weight.

He had studied an old map that Ezra had kept in the house one night before leaving and gotten his bearings of where he needed to go. He memorized the number of major rivers he'd need to pass before he'd be on the road to Colorado Springs. He was cleaning up after himself in the kitchen when Minerva had come down and found him while searching for her pipe.

When Mini had found him in the kitchen, she took the opportunity to give him a good luck present. She had made some alterations to an old coat of Ezra's uncle's that had been in an attic chest for years and she wanted Sully to have it. It was finely made from heavy wool, and she insisted that Sully have it so that, when he got back to his kin, they'd see that little Mini Botkins had taken good care of their soldier boy.

He tried it on and it had fit perfectly. She was very proud to see her alterations had brought use back to the old garment. Sully knew better than to argue with her over her generosity. He was so touched he actually hugged her. It was the last time he saw her, for he left the next morning after saying goodbye to Ezra out in the barn.

Once away from the old couple, loaded with some food and water, he resumed his nightly travels. The rivers slowed him down as he crossed them, but he kept pushing on. He struggled with the guilt and depression as he put miles between him and the old couple. The scriptures they'd mentioned filled him with angst, and the memories filled him with sadness. At least he didn't have to lie to them anymore about going home to California to be with his family. Colorado Springs called out to him.

He moved on, the black wool coat helping many a night to keep the chill from its new owner.

Five winters after loosing his father, Cloud Dancing became ill. Snow Bird knew the first morning he woke and felt feverish that something was wrong, and she refused to let him out of the tent. Try as he might to argue with her, she would not be reasoned with, and so he stayed inside. The symptoms grew worse over the next few days, until he could hardly chatter out his instructions to her for the medicine he would need.

She called the elders and Black Kettle, fearing the worst. Her fear was justified; if the tribe lost their medicine man, they could loose the good fortune they'd had with the spirits and sickness could overtake them all. If the medicine man had been struck first, perhaps they had already lost favor with the spirits. Black Kettle sent some braves north to ask for the help of another tribe. He was very close to Cloud Dancing and did not want to loose such a gentle, caring spirit as his. It had been much too hard loosing the medicine man's father.

Cloud Dancing's father had died of whooping cough. All he could wonder as he lay in his tent was if he was going to die from a white man's disease just like his father. So far, the medicine and herbs he had instructed Snow Bird to prepare for him had not worked. Laying in the tent, he could only think of all he had not done yet for his family and his tribe.

He had not begun teaching his own son the ways of the medicine and their special prayers to the spirits, and now he feared for his entire tribe, not just his immediate family. He had not told Snow Bird of the sacred items he had safely hidden in a special place in their northern hunting grounds. And with the Cheyenne's oral history, he knew of several of their younger children who could gain so much knowledge from the stories he could tell them. He felt he had so much to do, so many that depended on him. He urged Snow Bird to find other herbs to help bring down his fever.

Then, one night, fitful sleep found him as Snow Bird faithfully sat with him. She tried to keep him cool and tried to pray, but she was scared. Was she already sick as well? Who would raise their son and find him a bride if they were both sick? Things had gone so well with the tribe for so long, she had almost forgotten worry. Now that her beloved husband lay in his tent, pale and unable to even lift his head, she dared not think of a life without him. He had held her heart for many seasons. What would she do without him?

As he slept, Cloud Dancing could feel himself walking. Slowly at first, then growing stronger. This was not a dream, but a feeling. He concentrated on the feeling, asking the spirits for healing to come into his body. Then a sight appeared before his eyes; a favorite field he often used for hunting. As he walked the hunting grounds alone, something made him stop beside a tree and listen. Someone was approaching.

But what appeared in the clearing was not another tribe member, but the black wolf. There was the lolling tongue, the arrows in his side, the slow, plodding walk. It was alone, and Cloud Dancing found himself following it at a safe distance as it tried to walk past him towards the tents. Then, the black wolf lay down and did a strange thing. It began to howl. It was not the howl of one being on the hunt. This was a cry of a wounded and dying animal. He had never witnessed a predator such as this giving away its position in the middle of the day by crying out. Yet it didn't seem sick. The impression he got was one of sadness.

He felt pity for the animal.

This brought Cloud Dancing awake and he found himself gazing into Snow Bird's beautiful brown eyes. The tent was quiet, it was morning, and something that smelled good was roasting in the fire. It made his stomach growl, and he felt it had been quite a while since he had eaten. He was holding Snow Bird's hand, and she was smiling down at him.

"The fever has broken." She told him.

Had the wolf, a bad omen, brought him healing? He smiled at her, so happy to hear that he was going to be alright that he wanted to hug her to him. But all he could manage was to touch her face and thank her for saving him.

Now he had to find the black wolf, and do the same for it.


	6. Chapter 6

Spring passed by as Sully traveled. And the weight he had put on at the Botkins farm fell away as his food packed by old Mini disappeared and he began to only find young spring roots and fish to eat. And a fish a day had helped to keep up Sully's strength until his line had broken and the fish had gotten away with his hook. Then, things started getting harder.

Without the safety of forests, Sully slowly stopped caring if anyone on the road recognized him anymore or not. From the last time he had looked at himself in a broken mirror of Mini's, his precise military haircut was gone, replaced with a unruly shock of hair and a grisly beard to match. His usually short hair had always been straight, slicked back in the style of the day. Now, it was twice as long as he'd ever let it grow, and it was beginning to curl. With the beard to match and his black wool coat, he doubted he looked anything like a union sniper anymore. So he quit hiding his tracks.

His shoes were also fairly worn out by now. He had patched them, with Ezra's help, but the sole was cracking again and soon, they wouldn't be good for anything. The left was especially wearing thin, as they had already been thin when he was issued the pair in St. Louis. It slowed him down a little, and he hoped the pair held together until he got back to Abigail. Then he wouldn't need shoes anymore.

Abigail. He prayed to the Lord above that he make it back to her grave now. It was all he asked. He would simply lay down next to her and let the Lord do the rest. His prayers weren't for forgiveness, as he didn't feel he could ever be worthy of such a gift. Sully felt there was nothing left he could do that could ever make up for the lives he had ruined.

Pike's Peak growing in the distance told him that his journey was almost over. It had been a little over six months since he had deserted his post, and he had covered hundreds of miles over that time. His body was worn to exhaustion, and in sleep, he oftentimes dreamed of meals with Abigail. Dreams of her being seven months pregnant and wanting canned tomatoes so bad that she almost didn't eat anything else for an entire week. Sully also dreamed of cooking for her, keeping her close to the stove at night while he stirred the pot so her and the baby wouldn't get a chill. Sometimes, it wasn't a dream, but a feeling of being in bed with her again, his hand protectively draped across her swelling stomach. It was those nights that tortured him the most. He could almost smell her hair on the pillow, almost feel her warmth as she snuggled up against him. Sully would awake from these jagged dreams so frazzled, he at times thought he saw her sitting next to him in the grass.

As the days grew warmer, and he grew thinner, he traveled day or night, whenever he had more strength. Sometimes, the coat kept out the chill of the night, and sometimes it drug along behind him as he walked with the sun beating down on him. It was one of the few possessions he enjoyed keeping with him, as it reminded him of that quiet winter with the Botkins.

One day, he tried to gauge how far he might be from Colorado Springs. The mountain was large now, and he had been trying to remember places he might have hunted. But nothing seemed familiar to him anymore. There had been no farms to be seen along the path he had taken. Since a week prior, when he had passed a wagon on the road he had traveled on, he had spoken to no-one. Only when he collapsed in exhaustion and talked to Abigail in dreams did he speak.

Then, Sully thought he saw what the town called 'The Kissing Tree' up ahead of him. Everyone had called it that since the day he'd decided to stay in Colorado Springs. The branches of the majestic tree spread out so far and wide that he felt like he was in a natural cathedral standing underneath it. As he tried to be sure, he was watching the horizon and not his feet, and tripped over a gnarled root and fell. Crashing to the ground in a heap, pain shot through Sully's foot and the rest of the old left shoe fell apart. He lay there, rubbing his foot, trying to feel if anything had broken.

After he calmed down, he ripped a strip off of his shirt and used it to try and secure the rest of the sole back to his foot. He couldn't very well find his way in one shoe, though he could barely put any pressure on it as it was. Then, finding a long branch to help steady him, Sully continued on. But the stream he had thought was to the south of the kissing tree was not there. Disoriented, his memories played tricks on him, though the afternoon sun told him he was going in the right direction.

An hour later, Sully was totally blinded with the pain in his foot. So consumed in his thoughts of finding the stream that would help him remember where things were that he paid no attention to his surroundings. His pace was at a crawl, and the effort it took left him panting and praying to find a drink of water. He thought he was close and dared not stop until he found her grave.

In a field near a stand of sparse trees, Sully thought he heard water just ahead. Unwilling to trust his ears, he stumbled onward, the weight of the army pack and his wool coat left him covered in sweat. He could almost hear her calling to him, beckoning him onward. That voice, her sweet voice sounded so close that he felt he could reach out and touch her. Loosing his footing in a hidden gopher hole, he tripped and fell again, the pack coming open and several belongings scattering in the grass. The fall shook him so hard, he lost his breath a moment, and lay face down, unable to move.

When his breath came back, he managed to lift his head, straining to hear the sound of Abigail calling him again. But the only thing he heard was the wind now. As his bleary eyes focused, he turned his head and saw that there was a small sapling about two inches from his face that had been felled by a beaver. The sapling had been gnawed into a point and had Sully just fallen in a slightly different way, he would have been killed instantly. Staring at the would be spear, the realization that death had been so close sent him over the edge.

He wanted everything to be over. He wanted to stop feeling this pain for hurting those he loved. He wanted to stop feeling remorse for the un-armed man he had murdered. He wanted to stop feeling guilt for all the wrong choices he had made that had gone against the good upbringing his Ma had tried to instill in him before she'd drowned herself. He wanted the lonely pangs inside him to stop cutting into his heart every time he'd seen Ezra and Mini show their love to one another. He prayed for nothing else but for all the pain to stop, and God had turned away from him.

Everything Sully had done in life was because he was impulsive and headstrong. He had made his wife break her promise to her family, causing Loren to disown her. He had thought that, by taking Abigail away from her stern parents, he could give her the loving family she'd never known. Then, he'd promised his skills to the army, hoping to die in battle, and had ended up deserting like a coward. He could see nothing that could redeem him. Now, God could've taken the chance to kill him outright with the sapling sticking out, and He had made Sully fall just far enough to miss the killing blow. The Lord must have wanted Sully to endure more pain. The thought was too much to bear.

Sully laid there and cried his heart out, so tired in body and mind that he couldn't physically move anymore.

That morning, Cloud Dancing was rather quiet at breakfast. After their sons had gone, he continued to ponder his bread. Snow Bird watched him intently while she straightened up around the fire.

"What do you think about?" She asked, daring to interrupt his thoughts. He looked up at her and smiled.

"I must go for a walk today." He replied simply. But still he remained by the fire, turning the last bite of bread over in his hand. He did not tell her that he went to seek the black wolf of his dreams.

"Is this walk one you fear? Or do you wait for me?" She asked, knowing that sometimes, the paths dictated to him by the spirits were not always easy. She had a hide to finish tanning, but it could wait if he wanted her to join him. Finally eating the last of his bread, he shook his head.

"I feel I must walk alone today. It is nothing to fear." He stood and she walked out of the tent with him. His sons gathered with others and worked on fresh arrows for hunting. Fresh feathers lay in one pile while others worked on flints. Husband and wife stood together and watched them working a moment.

"Then it is not the bread that drives you away." Snow Bird teased her husband. He turned back to her with a small laugh that lit up his whole face. She had a gentle way of making him smile that had always made him feel at ease with her.

"I shall be back for more bread before the sun passes." He told her. "I go to pray for a short while. I will not be far." And with that, he left camp.

Cloud Dancing had walked his favorite hunting grounds all that morning, trying to find the exact spot he kept seeing in his dreams. When he came to the stand of trees, he sat near one and prayed to the Great Spirit. He was thankful to have his health restored to him, thankful to have the day greet him with such warm winds and blue skies. He also dared to ask for understanding as to how the black wolf had brought good health back to him, when the spirits always said wolves were evil. He felt that today might be the day his chance would come to see the black wolf, to help it with the arrows stuck in its side. He meditated a long time.

When a few hours had passed, a sound brought him to his feet. Cloud Dancing knew the tread of an animal, the step of one of his brothers, and this was neither. It had to be a white man they way the branches snapped and the leaves rustled. Pulling out a knife, Cloud Dancing prepared to defend himself, if necessary. White men had been settling in the area near town, and this one could be looking for new land to steal from the Cheyenne.

But the man that came stumbling through the grass hardly looked a threat. With a wild mess of hair, a walking stick, and an old pack on his back, the man was clearly lost. He was so gaunt that he had to be starving. His left foot made him limp considerably. It gave him much pain, for he was panting in the warmness of the afternoon, and no wonder! The long black coat the man wore couldn't have been more ill-suited for travel.

A black coat.

The medicine man's heart began to pound in his chest. This WAS the dream he had been sent by the spirits, but what was coming was not a real black wolf, but a man in a black coat! Fixated on the man, Cloud Dancing watched him, trying to piece together the details of the dream to the reality before him. The wolf had carried no pack and the man did not have arrows in his side. The dream and reality were not lining up.

Walking slowly, deliberately, the man limped past Cloud Dancing completely oblivious to any indication that the Indian was standing a few feet from him. Stumbling, the man fell and narrowly missed hitting his face on a small tree stump that a beaver had cut down to build his dam in the stream nearby. The strange man lay on the ground a long minute before moving again, and this told the medicine man that he was very weak. He thought to the dream, when the wolf had finally lay down.

Almost on cue, the man began to cry. His gut-wrenching sobs were so lost and pitiful that they matched the wolf's sorrowful cries from the vision. This man was so weak that he could never possess the power of a wolf. However, Cloud Dancing knew of the cunning of white men and was inclined to believe the vision of the white man as a wolf to be a bad omen. But through all these conflicting thoughts came a strange compassion which startled the medicine man. Rarely did he have anything to do with the white man. The only white man he had ever spoken to had cut himself off from his own people, preferring to live in the woods in the Ute area west of Cash Creek. He was honorable in his trading and treatment of Indian's, and Cloud Dancing was wary to believe there were many more men like the one called McBride.

Why would the spirits send a bad omen to him, along with the feeling of needing to help? It didn't make sense. The man quieted down, but continued to lay on the ground where he had fallen. Cloud Dancing continued to watch him from the trees, unable to make anything out of his clothes or what had fallen out of his pack that now lay scattered across the grass. All he was sure of was that nothing the white man had carried was a weapon.

But now that the dream was coming true, he couldn't just leave the white man there, simply because he wasn't an animal. He had dreamt of the black wolf too many times to ignore it now. After a while, Cloud Dancing decided the man must have passed out, for he had stopped all crying and was laying there, barely breathing. He walked closer, his knife poised in his hand. But it was no ruse. The white man had passed out and was of no harm to anyone but himself. Finding a rock a few feet away from the stranger, the medicine man sat down to pray.


	7. Chapter 7

At the dawn of a new day, Byron Sully awoke to find himself still face down in a grassy area. It took him a minute to remember that he had fallen late yesterday, but, upon trying to move his foot, the pain that surged through him brought back the memory of his fall. Slowly stretching, his body aching from lying unprotected on the cold ground all night, Sully pulled himself a few feet over to a tree where he could sit up a bit. It took every ounce of energy to wiggle himself out of the straps of the army pack and turn so that he could lean up against the tree. When he succeeded, he came face to face with an Indian.

The Indian was sitting across from him on a large rock, watching him very passively. He wore animal skins, beads, and there was a feather dangling from a lock of his hair. His face was calm, yet very inquisitive. Sully wondered if the Indian had been waiting for him to wake up before killing him. Maybe this was God sending mercy his way, finally.

"Who are you?" Sully asked, his hoarse voice sounding very raspy. He expected to see confusion, but instead, a glint of recognition crossed the man's face.

"Cloud Dancing." The Indian said in English. It shocked Sully. He'd never encountered any Indians who knew how to speak English before. Sully had never even been this close to an Indian, other than a war party that had attacked a stagecoach he'd been on years ago, and seeing one in a travelling side show. The man's dark skin and brown eyes seemed to hold an intelligence Sully couldn't quite explain. There was no anger in this man. Still, he was nervous. But the name Cloud Dancing didn't sound like the name one gave to a bloodthirsty savage.

"Gonna kill me?" Sully asked with parched lips. The Indian, Cloud Dancing, cocked his head at this question. He had expected the white man to speak eventually, but he hadn't anticipated the question. In his mind, he named the white man Black Wolf after his dreams. To this end, he needed to hear no white man's name. He shook his head slowly at Black Wolf.

"Medicine man heals. Only warriors kill." He replied.

"Medicine?" Sully asked. "Why are you here?" Sully began to think he was hallucinating from the lack of food or from the pain in his foot. Or maybe both. Surely he couldn't believe he was sitting there having a conversation with this Indian! But the medicine man, Cloud Dancing, continued to sit there, not moving.

"I wait for you." Cloud Dancing said. Through bleary eyes, Sully stared at him.

"Followed me?" He caught more details of the Indian's clothes as the morning light gained in the sky. There was a pattern dyed into his animal skins, and he had scars on his chest in a round pattern. He thought the Indian was lying to him.

"Spirits show me your journey. They tell me you are wounded." Cloud Dancing paused, slightly hesitating to say the next thought in his mind. Committing the words to the air committed the oath to the white man and he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do or not. But he could not hold back what he knew the Great Spirit wanted him to say. "I wait to help you."

Sully was shocked, hardly believing that the medicine man could pretend to have known of his injuries beforehand. Sully knew he'd come limping through the clearing like a stampede; anyone could have guessed that he had been injured somehow from the noise he'd made. He closed his eyes a minute, wishing for a drink, wishing this was all a hallucination, wishing it could all be over.

"What injury…" Sully said through dry lips, his eyes still closed. "…did these spirits show you?" He intended to hear silence. But Cloud Dancing, who was no hallucination, clearly answered.

Cloud Dancing held up his hands to gesture where he had seen the shafts of the arrows in the wolf's side. But as he imagined the wolf, he realized that he would have to translate their position into where the shafts would be on a man who stood upright. Thinking about their point of contact in the fur versus where it would be on the man, Cloud Dancing made a stunning statement.

"Two arrows have pierced your heart. They are still there, causing you great pain." Cloud Dancing said. Sully's eyes flew open and he swallowed hard. Two arrows piercing his heart. How could the Indian know about Abigail and Hannah? His heart started pounding and his eyes were big as wagon wheels. The two men stared at each other, both realizing that there was something amazing going on between them.

Suddenly, four braves came out from nowhere on each side of where Cloud Dancing sat. They had their bows in their hands and stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of Sully leaning up against the tree. In their native tongue, they began talking excitedly at their medicine man, and all Sully could do was watch the exchange among the men. Two of the braves were as tall as Cloud Dancing, but two were much taller and bigger than him. They all looked deadly, and he assumed they were warriors. One held a pack made from animal skins.

As Cloud Dancing jumped up, one brave threateningly drew his bow on Sully, aiming his arrow towards Sully's chest. Sully tried to struggle to stand, but didn't have the strength. He tried to tell them he was not there to hurt anybody, but they were all too busy arguing among themselves to pay him much attention. Cloud Dancing waived his arms, loudly threatening the brave. The other three started shouting back at him. Sully's heart was hammering, expecting the arrow to find its mark any second and end everything. But, slowly, the brave lowered his arrow as Cloud Dancing kept talking to them. Their shouting stopped and they all started looking at Sully in a strange way. Their stares that had been full of hatred a few minutes ago were now touched with fear. Their voices lowered

Trying again to stand, Sully couldn't reach the stick he'd used the day before to help his balance and tried leaning against the tree. But before he could steady himself, his leg buckled and he fell in a heap before them. The braves and the medicine man stopped their talk to stare at him. Too weak to push himself back up, he sat there awkwardly, rubbing his twisted foot. One of the braves took out a large knife and gestured towards Sully with it. Sully looked up through his wild hair, wondering if the medicine man would save him or let the braves have their way with him. They clearly despised white men, and Sully could feel their hatred.

With another stern warning in his native language, Cloud Dancing spoke to the braves, who backed away from him. One sat down the pack he had brought with him, leaving it beside the medicine man. They all stared at Sully another moment, then turned and walked back into the trees, disappearing as quietly as they had come. Cloud Dancing watched them leave before turning back to Black Wolf.

"They came to find me. Snow Bird worries." Cloud Dancing said, crouching down to be at Sully's eye level. He refrained from telling Black Wolf all that the braves had to say.

"Snow…Bird?" Sully asked as he rubbed his twisted foot.

"My wife." The medicine man explained. At this, Sully's lips tightened and he hung his head. Trying to maintain his composure, he held his breath a moment, willing himself not to cry in front of the Indian, no matter what. Even here in this strange situation, his heart could cry out for Abigail. Cloud Dancing stood and began walking towards the creek.

"Wait. What's happening? Where are you going?" Sully called out, thinking he was about to be deserted. The medicine man stood still a moment before turning. Was he changing his mind about helping him as his spirits had told him to?

"They go to bring the elders. They fear a white man can only bring bad luck to the tribe. I must build a circle to protect you." And with that, the Indian walked off, leaving Sully alone. Sully laid down on his side, exhausted from the excitement. If the braves didn't believe their medicine man's vision, would the rest of the tribe side with them as well? He tried to wrap his mind around a stranger who was so different from himself who was willing to go against his culture to help him. Or maybe it was all just a lie, and the Indians were secretly planning to have him for supper.

'Two arrows have pierced your heart.'

The medicine man had said. There was no earthly way for him to know of Sully's sorrows lodged inside his soul. It wasn't something that an Indian would say to a stranger if the stranger was going to be his supper. There had been plenty of time to carve Sully up while he had lain prone on the ground all night. Could Sully really be able to trust this man to help him go home to Abigail?


	8. Chapter 8

Cloud Dancing lifted small stones from the creek bed as he thought about what to say to Black Kettle and the tribe. The braves had been Bright Spear, Runs In Quiet Shadows, Many Claws, and Hidden Trees. They would be back by now, telling everyone that they thought Cloud Dancing was conspiring against them all with a white man. Runs In Quiet Shadows had looked as if he believed what his medicine man professed, but the others were not to be convinced. As Cloud Dancing had tried to point out the white man's black coat, corresponding with his visions of the black wolf, they would not listen. Hidden Trees had asked Cloud Dancing to kill the white man right there and be done with the bad omen that had been plaguing his dreams for months. He had fired the arrow that had killed the mighty buffalo the season before, and he wanted the white man's death to add to his list of many accomplishments as the strongest warrior in the tribe.

Cloud Dancing had warned all of them that if any harm came to Black Wolf that the Great Spirit would be very angry. That the Great Spirit had hidden another meaning in the visions that Cloud Dancing did not know yet. When that did not convince them, he suggested that perhaps Black Wolf carried a white man's disease that could kill the tribe. This made the warriors back up, for the diseases of the white man were very deadly. At that point, the four had gone to seek counsel with Black Kettle and decide who should end the journey of the white man.

Cloud Dancing decided he would ask to speak to Black Kettle alone first. He was one who was not against all white men. He had gotten a white man's tribal flag from the big white chief in the East, Lincoln. Black Kettle had always been willing to hear a man out, and Cloud Dancing was hoping that he would give the same accord to this white man. There had to be reason in the Great Spirit's plan. If only he had time to learn about it.

Walking back with an armful of small stones, his thoughts continued. The elders did not understood the words of the white man, and they might decide that Cloud Dancing wasn't speaking the truth if he tried to translate. And if they believed he was sick, they would all decide to kill him for the safety of the tribe, regardless of the good he could bring. It was a risk and Cloud Dancing hoped that he could somehow convince Black Kettle to allow him to let the white man live long enough to discover the truth.

Black Wolf lay where he had fallen, and Cloud Dancing began lining the area around him with the stones, blessing them each in turn. He made quick work of a circle. In the center he would start a fire, and the four sections that flowed from the center would mark the four sides of Mother Earth. One section held Black Wolf, one would be for Cloud Dancing himself, and the other two would be for sacred items. Black Wolf watched him intently, still too weak to do much more than sit up.

"What're ya doin'?" Sully asked weakly.

"This is a sacred circle. Inside the circle, no harm can fall on you." Cloud Dancing answered as he worked. Sully was doubtful of this. He had to wonder just what good a ring of stones around him would do if the others came back and decided to draw their bows and knives again.

"What did you tell them?" Sully finally asked. The Indian turned away from the circle to face him.

"My vision of you was to help, not kill. I must do what the Great Spirit shows." Cloud Dancing said in a low voice. Although his tone was sincere, Black Wolf's eyes were full of hunger and anguish, and he could not hear the sincerity over his own pains.

"One wanted to kill me." Sully said, wary. The medicine man gave a nod.

"I tell Hidden Trees you are not evil, but he does not trust the white man. I will speak to Black Kettle. Make him understand." The medicine man stood, hardly believing he had said so much. He walked back over to the rock and gathered the pack one of the braves had left behind. Sitting down and opening it, he found bread from Snow Bird; bread he had told her he would be back for that evening.

"I'm not here to hurt anybody…" Sully paused. "You said they think I'm bad luck and I have to agree." He picked at the grass, fully hoping the braves would come back to end it all. Maybe he could convince this Indian to find Abigail's grave and fulfill his final wish that way. It was the only help he was willing to accept. Cloud Dancing handed Black Wolf half of the bread that Snow Bird had packed for him.

"White man carries sickness my medicine does not heal. They will not risk the tribe if you are sick. I will speak to my chief. I will tell him the vision shows you have heart sickness." Cloud Dancing began eating the bread, and Sully took a bite while he thought of how truly heartsick he was over loosing his family.

"Ain't no medicine can fix that." Sully said somberly. The two men looked at each other, wise dark brown eyes meeting sad blue ones in a place where both understood - regardless of age, time, or color. "If they decide to kill me, I won't try to stop them. I just want to be buried next to my wife." Sully blurted out honestly. He didn't know if the Indian would understand all that he had said.

"Eat." Cloud Dancing said. Hearing that Black Wolf's wife was in the spirit world confirmed at least one arrow from his dreams. It helped Cloud Dancing understand a lot about why Black Wolf was in the state he was in. But he remained silent to wait for the tribe and Black Kettle.

The braves preceded the rest of the tribe as they came back into the clearing later, looking rather triumphant. The elders were right behind them, looking solemn. Black Kettle was followed by several other members of the tribe, including Snow Bird. Black Kettle took one look at Cloud Dancing standing in guard of a pitiful heap of a gaunt-looking white man and stopped in his tracks. Cloud Dancing was not an impulsive man, and he did not become such a great medicine man by acting hasty. His quick work of the healing circle around the white man showed his conviction for what he must do. Black Kettle took the situation very seriously.

Sully raised his head and watched the great procession come and stand all around. They stayed well away from the circle. He was surprised to see that an entire band of people had been disrupted all because of him stumbling onto their land. He dared not make eye contact with any of them for too long. Cloud Dancing spoke in his native tongue, and, stepping out of the circle, he and an older Indian, presumably the chief, walked over to a stand of trees to speak privately. One female came to the front of the crowd to stare at Sully, and he wondered if this was the one named Snow Bird. A long braid of black hair fell over her shoulder as she stared, her eyes studying him curiously.

"This is the black wolf?" Black Kettle asked his medicine man. Cloud Dancing nodded.

"He wears a black coat." He pointed to the coat that lay outside the circle. The chief made the hand gesture for weapons, and Cloud Dancing shook his head.

"He mourns two losses. One was his wife. He searches for her burial place." As the medicine man said this, his chief looked back at the white man.

"You tell Hidden Trees he has a white man sickness." Black Kettle said. "True?"

"No. He wanted to kill Black Wolf before I could speak with you. I had to stop him until you could come. It would go against the spirits to harm him." Cloud Dancing knew that if it turned out Black Wolf indeed had a sickness, his integrity as a healer would be ruined.

"Black Wolf?" The chief gestured to ask why a name had been bestowed. To Black Kettle, this was more proof that his medicine man was very serious in the vision he'd received. The tribe held the giving of names to be an honor, one the white man did not deserve unless it was in contempt.

"The Great Spirit has sent him to us in peace. He gives me no white man's name. He has been Black Wolf to me for a season already." Cloud Dancing explained. His chief was silent a few minutes, turned away from the tribe and facing the open field.

"Great Spirit is too great for these old eyes." Black Kettle said solemnly.

The ring of Indians filled the clearing but kept a safe distance. None dared to speak to Sully or raise a hand against him. So far, the circle, somehow, was working. Some murmured to themselves, while most just stood and watched their chief. They were dressed in animal skins with beads of various colors. One had buffalo horns shaped into a hat. Many wore the teeth and claws of birds and mountain lions. They looked ready to make short work of Sully.

After long minutes, Cloud Dancing came back and resumed his place within the circle. Sitting back down, the tribe looked to the chief for answers. The chief spoke with hand gestures and words, and the tone in his voice was one that was not to be questioned. Sully did not know the words, but he could tell from the look on his face that the chief meant business. What he was saying was going to be followed, that was sure. All eyes were on him as he spoke the decree.

When Black Kettle had finished, the woman at the front of the crowd sat a pack down near Cloud Dancing, keeping it outside the circle. The two said nothing, but exchanged an intimate look. Then, one of the older looking members spoke with his hand raised over the circle. The four braves watched Sully as the elder spoke and the look in their eyes was one of distrust. When the elder was finished, however, everyone walked back the way they had come, leaving Sully and Cloud Dancing in the circle, unharmed.


	9. Chapter 9

As Snow Bird and the tribe walked away, she could not help but think about the white man laying in her husband's healing circle. He looked like he could go on to the spirit world at any moment. His face was thin, his hair was wild and dirty, and his eyes! His eyes held a piercing pain she had only seen one other time. When she had been a girl, one of the older women of the tribe had lost all of her sons and her husband in a great battle. When the chief had told the woman of her losses, she had said not a word. But her eyes took on that pained, defeated look. She had stopped eating and wasted away in her tent months later. Snow Bird had never forgotten that look. It was the look the white man's eyes held.

She prayed to the spirits that her husband was not taking on a man who was determined to die. She knew how long the visions had been coming to Cloud Dancing. She also knew how stubborn he could be when he had a problem before him that he could not solve. But, even though the word among them was that the white man could have a sickness that might sweep through the tribe, she felt differently after seeing him. Snow Bird secretly believed that the only harm the man could cause was towards his own spirit.

When she got back to her teepee, she worked on the evening meal in silence. After a while, one of the other women, Little Flower, came bursting in. She had not gone to the clearing to see what was going on with Cloud Dancing and the white man, as she had felt weak. Now, she was flushed and agitated.

"I have listened to the elders! Cloud Dancing must stay away from the tribe until he can prove Black Wolf carries no sickness." She told Snow Bird. Little Flower sat down heavily, looking concerned. Cloud Dancing had recently helped her over a sickness of her own, and lately, she was always coming to him with every little pain she had.

"Black Wolf?" Snow Bird asked.

"It is the name that Black Kettle says Cloud Dancing gives the white man." Little Flower wrung her hands in worry. "They talk of Black Wolf putting bad medicine on Cloud Dancing to make him help our enemy." Snow Bird pondered the name while preparing her bread. If the elders had respected the name her husband had given, they were also giving the white man respect. She had also seen the white man bring death and destruction to her people in many ways, and this made her distrustful. But, in spite of the past, Black Kettle always talked about wanting peace above all. Perhaps he felt this white man could be a sign of further peace among the peoples coming into their land. But how much help could a white man be, when Snow Bird knew the sadness in his eyes?

She handed Little Flower a bowl so she could help make the evening's bread.

"Talk of bad medicine is foolish. My husband follows the Great Spirit." Snow Bird said, continuing in her work.

"Maybe he is already sick?" Little Flower whispered. Snow Bird sighed in exasperation.

"There is extra work tonight so that I may have bread to take them in the morning. If you cannot help, tell Dark Skies to come and help me." Snow Bird said, putting the conversation to rest. Little Flower kept her head down and worked the dough in silence.

Sully awoke to find the day at an end. After the tribe had left and they had eaten of the food that Snow Bird had left for them, Sully could do nothing more than curl into a ball on the ground, his stomach hurting after so many days without nourishment. Somehow he must've slept, and now the pain was abated.

Cloud Dancing was tending the fire at the center of the healing circle and seemed lost in thought. Sully waited to speak until Cloud Dancing moved, for he sat with his legs crossed, his head bowed and looked as if he might be in prayer. However he had made the fire, a strange scent filled the air unlike any wood he'd ever smelled. It made his head hurt.

Sitting up, Sully unwrapped the rest of the pieces of his shirt that had been holding his shoe together. There was hardly anything of the actual shoe left now. His foot was swollen and bruised, but nothing was so painful as to be broken. He sat and rubbed it gently.

Cloud Dancing opened his eyes and watched Black Wolf tend to his foot. While he had slept, Cloud Dancing had gathered the herbs he'd need to make a salve for the injury. He was glad to see that the white man, after some food, had recovered a bit of his senses and was well enough to care about his foot. The talk about wanting to be buried next to his wife was the talk of a dead man. Cloud Dancing could not fulfill the spirits wishes if the white man were to give up.

Looking over, Sully saw the Indian watching him. In the waning light of sunset, his dark skin looked bronzed in the light from the fire. His dark eyes were still friendly, however.

"Didn't wanna disturb ya." Sully said.

"I gathered what I needed to make a salve for you while you rested." Cloud Dancing said. "If I apply it now, you can wash in the morning." He held out a treated animal bladder to him, filled with water. Sully took it hesitantly, then drank. He drank until his stomach lurched, not realizing how refreshing it was after the events of the day. Coughing a little, he handed it back.

"Don't need nothin' but help to get back to my wife's grave." Sully said. "It's all I want." Many questions swirled in Cloud Dancing's mind, as they had been gathering all afternoon while Black Wolf slept. If he'd loved his wife so much, where had he gone? It was clear he had been on his own quite a while. Perhaps he had traveled to find other family? Perhaps children had to be taken somewhere that they could be cared for? Had he been responsible for her death? Guilt and sadness hung around Black Wolf like heavy clouds hanging on the horizon before a great storm.

"Your love for her was great." Cloud Dancing ventured.

Sully nodded his head, not looking up from the fire.

"How long have you been traveling?" He asked Black Wolf. Sully shook his head.

"Months. Since last summer." He guessed. Sully's answer corresponded with the time that the visions from the spirits had started.

"To find your family?" Cloud Dancing pressed. Sully's face was set like stone and he only shook his head again. But the medicine man could tell that even this much of an answer took a great effort out of him. He could see that Black Wolf was very troubled by this talk, so he decided to ask the question in a different way. While he spoke, he casually made the salve, crushing the herbs he'd gathered on a stone he had brought out of the creek nearby.

"Cheyenne do not dig as the white man does. Our people carry the dead to our sacred burial ground and let their bodies feed Mother Earth. As they journey back to the spirits, they become a part of life for others to come." He paused to add wood to the fire. Black Wolf watched him intently. "Are you looking for a sacred burial ground?"

"Yes, I am. When they brought my wife…back…she was buried in town. In Colorado Springs." He had hesitated when it came to mentioning the child, and he wasn't sure why. It was torture to talk about Abigail, to remember all the sweet memories he had of their time together. For baby Hannah, she had been stillborn and he had never had a moment to fall in love with her sweet face or beautiful eyes. Yet, this death, this baby that had never had the chance to give him sweet memories, hurt him in a deeper way. He could not even speak to Cloud Dancing that she had been a part of the tragedy that had torn his life apart. Mention of a baby would cause him to loose all control. And, in his sad state, he didn't have much.

"The town is not far from here. A days journey. But first, we must prove you have no sickness." Finishing the salve, Cloud Dancing walked around the fire and knelt at Sully's feet. He instructed that the salve should be applied across the entire foot, but he would not touch Sully at all. Without arguing, Sully plastered his foot with the smelly green mess and left it there to dry on overnight. They shared more bread before falling asleep, speaking no more that night to each other.

Cloud Dancing lay under the stars a great while before sleep could find him. He felt there was more to the story of Black Wolf's wife. Her passing had been tragic, but he could not understand all that had happened. But the simple fact that Black Wolf had applied the salve to his foot was a sign that he was slowly understanding that Cloud Dancing truly meant him no harm.

He thought of Snow Bird, of the sadness his heart would carry if she were ever to pass. He prayed she knew his love in her heart, though they weren't together. He prayed he was doing right in all this.

The next morning, Cloud Dancing woke Sully early. The salve had completely dried overnight and now would need to come off in a thorough washing at the creek. It would take them a while to walk over there, and Cloud Dancing wanted to be safely back within the circle before any of the braves were up and about. They would respect the words of their chief, but he did not want to tempt them or give them anything to discuss back in camp. He knew they spoke of Black Wolf casting bad medicine on him, making him side with the tribe's enemy, and he did not want to act as if that were true.

Black Wolf was hard to rouse, and once awake, was even harder to convince that washing in the creek was necessary.

"I can't walk that far." Sully insisted.

"Your staff will help you." Cloud Dancing held out the branch Sully had used to help him walk from the kissing tree after he'd fallen the first time. Taking the branch, he sighed.

"I don't think I can put any pressure on it." He said, trying to flex his foot. The salve had made it feel stiff, and moving it caused the dry green crust to crack. Their eyes met and for a long minute, both men knew that the only way Sully was going to be able to stand was if he leaned on Cloud Dancing. Cloud Dancing feared that, if Black Wolf really did have a white man's sickness, touching him would most certainly infect him. Then if the prediction was true, both men would die and he would never get back to his tribe again.

"Just hand me your…water…there." Sully said finally, pointing to the water bladder they had been drinking from. "I'll just use the water out of that." He could tell that Cloud Dancing wanted to do things right, but that he was afraid just like all the rest of his tribe. Glancing from the creek to the water, Cloud Dancing warred with himself, then handed the water over to Black Wolf to avoid touching him. The thought of being banned from the tribe and never getting back to Snow Bird was something he was not yet willing to do for this stranger.

He sat on his side of the circle and watched Black Wolf wash his foot. When he had used up all the water, Cloud Dancing went to get more. The swelling had gone down and the redness was less, which satisfied the medicine man. He urged Black Wolf to stretch and move as much as he could when he heard someone approaching. It was Snow Bird with fresh food for the morning. Leaving the circle, he met her in the clearing where she held the pack. Her eyes were searching Black Wolf, trying to see if his condition had changed in the night. He was rubbing his foot to avoid eye contact.

"It is good to see you." Cloud Dancing spoke to his wife in their own language. She sat the pack on the ground between them.

"He looks the same." She said. "You do not believe him to be sick?"

"He is heart sick. He has lost his wife." Cloud Dancing said in a low tone. She looked up at him, and just seeing her made him feel better. The information made her nod.

"I knew the look was loss." She said. "He cannot be helped if he does not choose it." This made him nod at her. He had talked to her many times about his medicine and his way of seeing how a tribe member chose to accept or reject healing in their own minds. Now she was repeating his words back to him. He wanted to hug her to him for she had brought balance to his thoughts. But as he brought his hands up and reached out to her, she stiffened and took a step away from him.

"Do not fear, wife." He said tenderly.

"I believe your words. But I have been asked not to touch you. I will not lie to my chief." Snow Bird said, her voice soft. Cloud Dancing nodded and also stepped back.

"Yes, we must be sure." He said. Her eyes met his, and they shared a smile that meant more than a hug. She walked back through the trees, leaving the pack on the ground. He watched her go, feeling a great longing to be able to hold her. What a sacrifice he was making for this white man! How he hoped the spirits were near to help him in this time apart from his family.


	10. Chapter 10

Sully watched the two Indians meet and talk in the clearing. Their native language was so strange sounding to him that he could not help but listen. Try as he might, he could not understand a word they said to each other, but he could sense the affection they had for each other by the way they spoke. It was clear that the medicine man's wife was concerned by the tone she used. It hurt Sully to watch her take a step back from Cloud Dancing before he could touch her. It meant she was afraid he was infected with a white man's disease and she didn't want the sickness to spread.

Other than the pains in his stomach as Cloud Dancing kept handing him bread to eat, his foot had really been the only other physical pain Sully had. And with the salve that he had applied the night before, even that was starting to ache less. The concoction had stunk, and some was still stuck to his skin, but it no longer throbbed. Whatever Cloud Dancing had put together, it definitely had worked. More than these physical pains, however, the pain in his heart grew. Watching the two Indians have their marriage interrupted by him made him feel very guilty.

He decided he couldn't stay any longer. Being so close to Colorado Springs yet still being so far from Abigail's grave was like torture to his soul. He tried to imagine seeing the stone, seeing both stones, touching them…but it was too much to bear at the moment. He pushed thoughts of Hannah from his mind.

Snow Bird departed, leaving another pack for them. Her retreat was soundless, and after only a few steps, her clothes helped her all but blend into the woods completely. Sully marveled at them both, that they were willing to take risks for him, a stranger who had hurt so many others.

"She can see you are heart sick." Cloud Dancing said, sitting back down in the circle. Sully turned to the medicine man.

"She wouldn't touch you." He said as he watched Cloud Dancing look in the pack that she had brought both of them.

"Black Kettle allows no contact until we are sure you do not infect the camp." He said quietly. He could tell that Black Wolf had been watching them closely the entire time.

"You know that if I was sick, you sat close enough to me that you'd probably already be sick too." Sully said, thinking back to some of the men in his regiment that had come down with measles right after he had enlisted. Even before that, in his mining days, he had seen whole camps of men wiped out by fevers. How it was possible, he did not understand, but somehow, just being near enough a sick man without touching him was enough. Cloud Dancing was quiet while Sully's thoughts wandered.

"Spirits say I am strong. I trust their signs." He looked over at Black Wolf, who was simply amazed. Sully hadn't had such a faith in his own God in so long that it was almost unbelievable that someone else could trust so strongly in some unseen force to protect him. He shook his head.

"I can't believe you wanna help me." Sully pointed to the trees where Snow Bird had walked away. "I've taken you away from your family. They may _never_ let you go back home! Believe me, I know what that's like. Your people have been constantly attacked by white men like me…yet you keep trying to help me. All I want is to get to town and find my wife's grave so I can—" Sully stopped himself, his impassioned words rising as his frustration mounted. He took a deep breath. "So I can lie next to her…one last time." His last words came out deflated, sounding as hollow and broken as he felt inside. Sully rubbed his face before the Indian could see the tear that had threatened to fall.

Cloud Dancing had to agree with Black Wolf. All white men that his tribe had ever come across were out to take everything in sight. They had tried to avoid the settlers as much as they could, but there had been a few times that they had resorted to fighting to protect what was sacred to them. He knew the risk of following the Great Spirit's sign. It could very well mean that his time with his tribe was over and he was to start a new journey. It would be sad for him to leave his family, but there were paths that the spirits made that could not immediately be seen. It did not mean that what the spirits wanted was wrong.

Black Wolf stood suddenly on shaky legs as Cloud Dancing sat and thought over all he had said. This brought the medicine man to his feet suddenly in silent reply. Where the white man's strength had come from, he did not know, but he was fearful that it would not last. Speaking of his wife had clearly upset him.

"Go back to your people." Sully said, reaching out for the staff he had used a few days before. Cloud Dancing had left it leaning against the tree. As for the rest, Sully had decided he would leave it behind. He was sure he wasn't strong enough to carry the army pack anymore, anyway. Standing made him dizzy, and he leaned hard on the branch in his shaky hand.

"You are not strong enough yet." Cloud Dancing said. He could tell Black Wolf was still favoring his foot from his fall. Without proper coverings, his feet would not carry him all the way to the white man's town from where they were.

"You've done enough." Sully took a step back to test himself. He limped a bit but managed to step to the edge of the circle of stones that the medicine man had made around him. "I can't stand ta keep you away from your family." Cloud Dancing came around the edge of the circle, speaking excitedly in his native tongue as he pointed to the stones. They stood face to face now, one inside the circle, one outside.

"The spirits say I must help you!" Cloud Dancing's voice was insistent, speaking again in English.

"I don't believe in your spirits." Sully warned him in a low tone. His heart was pounding, the beat pulsing behind his eyes, making his legs shake, but he had to go. He truly felt the Indian wouldn't stop him if he wanted to leave, spirits or no. Besides, he had asked him wash off his foot earlier and tried to get him to leave the circle. As Sully took a final step forward to exit the circle, Cloud Dancing's hands came up to Sully's shoulders and held him fast where he was.

"Black Wolf, no!" He shouted. Sully regained his balance inside the circle and the two men stood there, touching hand to shoulder a moment, their eyes locked on each other.

"Black…wolf?" He asked, confused.

"The circle." Cloud Dancing said in a quiet voice. "It is protecting you."

"Did you just call me a black wolf?" Sully asked again. Cloud Dancing stopped pushing against Sully's shoulders and the two men stood there; one on the outside had everything to loose and one on the inside had everything to gain. Neither fully understood how their physical stances and their mental stances were being tested by the Great Spirit. Neither could be aware of how their paths were starting from that moment to merge and follow a new direction together. A hawk, circling high above them, shrieked, it's voice piercing the silence of the moment.

Cloud Dancing knew now that it was too late to turn back.

"Great Spirit sends me visions of you as a black wolf, two arrows in your side, searching for my tribe…looking for…me. I dreamed of this place. The black wolf laid down there and cried for death that would not come." Cloud Dancing had pointed to the spot by the sapling where Sully had fallen, which was right where he'd seen the black wolf lay down and cry in his dreams. Sully stared at the ground where the army pack still lay. Somehow, the medicine man was telling him that, although hundreds of miles had separated them months ago, he had known Sully was coming, what he was wearing, and why he was coming back here. It was almost too much to believe.

"What are you sayin'?" Sully said, studying Cloud Dancing's eyes. The Indian seemed steady, his eyes clear, but Sully had to wonder if some sickness had, indeed, addled his brain. The dream was so odd sounding, yet so cryptically close to real life, that he could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"Wolves roam these hills, white and black. We hear the pack call to each other. They are powerful. Cunning. Some bands see a wolf as good luck. My father and his people respect them, but we see them as bad luck. When I had the dream of the black wolf, I saw it as a bad sign. I pray to the spirits to protect my people."

"When I saw you, I thought I was right. A white man and a black wolf was two bad omens. But you were able to shed your coat." At this, Cloud Dancing dared remove his hands from Sully's shoulders and trusted that he would stay inside the circle to hear him out. He walked over to Sully's black coat that Mini had given to him and picked it up. Sully was rooted to the spot where he stood.

"Wolf cannot change his color, but you did." Cloud Dancing held up the coat. "You tell me you want to die, but just like this coat, you can change your path. You can choose to live." He tossed down the coat and returned to his side of the circle. "You thought that this circle was to keep you safe from my brothers. I would not let them harm you. An evil spirit haunts you. That is why I build the circle, burn herbs. Evil has covered you in darkness your heart cannot heal from. If you will stay inside the circle one more night, the full moon will complete my prayers. The evil spirit will be gone. Then you can leave and I take you to town."

The two men stood on either side of the circle, the sun climbing high into the sky above them. The spring leaves danced overhead, dappling the men with shade. Sully leaned on his branch staff heavily, his head spinning with all that Cloud Dancing had told him. He had never had someone speak so openly to him about such things. He didn't know how to respond. The words _'Cried for death that would not come.' _echoed in his mind, reminding him of a Christmas night in Ezra's barn. Without saying the words, Cloud Dancing knew that all Sully wanted to do was die next to his family and end the pain that haunted him.

"But the salve…you wanted me to walk to the stream to wash?" Sully countered, trying to catch the medicine man in a loophole. Cloud Dancing nodded gravely, almost ashamed.

"A test. The evil spirit was not as strong then, and you resisted leaving the circle. Now, the darkness grows stronger, trying to make you go before my prayers are done." His answer was simple, honest.

The more Sully thought of all his morbid, dark thoughts the more he began to wonder, just a tiny bit, if perhaps it was an evil spirit haunting him. He started to wonder if he really did want to die to be with Abigail or to just make the pain stop. What if he found her grave, took his life, and yet never found Abigail and Hannah that way? He looked at the coat as he slowly sank to the ground. He always thought fondly of Mini when he had looked at the coat. Now he wondered if the Indian's symbolic idea of an evil spirit was closer to the truth. He had cloaked himself in nothing but sadness since the moment Abigail had passed away.

All he was sure of was the simple fact that, without asking him all about his life, Cloud Dancing knew him, knew his pain. Snow Bird did, too. They could see what Mini and Ezra didn't see. And, in spite of him being white, and them being Indians, they were going to great lengths to stand up for him when he was too weak and sick to see clearly for himself.

Could it be that the Lord above was trying to send Sully an answer?

Could the prayers of this man truly help him?


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning, Snow Bird had returned with more fresh food and a pair of moccasins for Cloud Dancing to fit for Black Wolf. She had thought of him rubbing his twisted ankle all the day before, knowing that if he were to somehow get better, he wouldn't do it walking around barefoot. She had taken the old pair that she had used as a pattern to make Cloud Dancing's new pair and had simply mended them the best she could. When she met Cloud Dancing that morning, she showed where she had left the stitching loose for him to help fit it to Black Wolf's foot.

Cloud Dancing instructed Snow Bird on the full moon that would help his prayers break Black Wolf of the dark spirit that was over his heart. She had heard of the ceremony one other time, but did not know if leading Black Wolf into town was such a good idea. A white man might assume that the two were up to no good if they were spotted together. Her husband assured her that they would be careful and that the spirits would watch over both of them. Still they did not touch.

Sully was moved to see that Snow Bird had brought him new shoes. He had applied Cloud Dancing's salve again the night before, and his foot was feeling that much better. Without knowing the right words, Cloud Dancing showed Sully the loose seam and managed to make him understand that they were loose so he could fit them properly. When Sully was satisfied with their fit, Cloud Dancing finished sewing the seam along the back so they would not unravel. The medicine man left his charge to rest while he gathered items for the coming ceremony, but Sully spent the time practicing walking the circle in his new moccasins.

As they ate that afternoon, Cloud Dancing was crushing berries to color the face paint he would use that evening. He also burned more herbs to purify the air. The two men spoke little, for there was much prayer and preparation, but Sully found the silence comfortable. He watched everything Cloud Dancing was doing, marveling that it was all for his benefit. He was solemn in his contemplation of leaving the circle and getting to town that night.

When the sun had set and the sky was still dusky, Cloud Dancing built the fire higher. He had applied his face paint and now used an eagle feather in sweeping motions around Sully as he chanted an ancient prayer. Sully sat on the ground, nervous, wondering if he should be feeling anything change inside him. Upon finishing, Cloud Dancing sat next to him and sang in his native language.

The words were foreign, so Sully bowed his head and tried to imagine what the Indian was saying to the spirits on his behalf. He thought about an evil spirit casting darkness over his heart ever since the night he lost Hannah and Abigail. He wondered if, even then, when she was in labor, if the evil spirit had been there to set things in motion, to take away what he loved most in the world. The song rose in intensity around Sully, and his tears fell as he meditated on all that had happened to him. He tried to focus on an actual dark smoke surrounding him that was being pushed away by the smoke of the herbs that Cloud Dancing was burning on the fire next to him. He wanted to believe, but he could only see the smoke from the fire pushing back the darkness an inch away from his body. It would have to be enough for now.

When the full moon was in full sight over the tops of the trees, Cloud Dancing stopped singing and chanted another prayer over the fire, looking up into the sky while sprinkling strange things into the flames. The tongues began to dance with a strange green tint, and Sully was amazed. His heart called out to his love as he watched the mysterious colors and prayed to her that this was lifting the sadness in his soul so that he could find the true answer inside himself.

Cloud Dancing was silent.

"Are you ready, Black Wolf?" He asked. Sully looked up at him.

"It's finished?" He asked, confused.

"It is finished." Cloud Dancing answered. "The green shows new growth in the light that now finds you." He pointed up at the moon. "With the light, we can find our way to town unharmed." Sully gazed at the moon, remembering so many moonlit nights in the past years that he had wandered far from everything in search of something to end his pain. Was this same moon now going to finally lead him back?

"Now?" Sully asked.

"We cannot wait." The medicine man answered. He gathered up Sully's staff and helped him stand up. Sully looked at the edge of the circle, wondering if this bit of peace might not follow him if he crossed over the stones that had surrounded him for days now. But the concern remained unspoken, and together, they left the circle and started the slow walk through the woods towards Colorado Springs.

After Sully had managed to walk fifty yards, they came to the stream that Cloud Dancing had been gathering his water from. He showed Black Wolf where to cross, and, using the staff for extra support, he managed not to fall in the freezing water. After that, the two stayed close. Cloud Dancing was watching for signs of fatigue, but Sully showed resilience in keeping up his pace. The days of rest and of food had helped him to get back a little strength.

As the trees thinned before them, Sully began to remember the meadow that was situated on one end of town. He saw one light, dimly, and finally realized that was a light from the local saloon, which hardly ever seemed closed. An owl hooted above them as they stepped into the clearing and Cloud Dancing stopped to let Black Wolf catch his breath and try to regain his bearings. He assumed it had been many years since Black Wolf had entered his own town and he wanted to give him the chance to remember where everything was.

For Sully, he needed no time to remember any detail of Colorado Springs. Though he couldn't see most of it from where they stood, he could see the church, and that was enough. He knew the graveyard was next to it, and there he would certainly find his family. He had not gone to the church that day, for Abigail's family was there, and they hated him so much, he couldn't bear to think of a fight breaking out over her coffin. So he had remained at the cabin that morning, sobbing his heart out. By the time the service was over, Sully had been packed and left that afternoon for St. Louis, leaving everything else in the cabin just as it had been before she had gone into labor.

All these dark memories burned in his mind as they slowly made their way across the quiet, moonlit meadow. His limp was still there slightly, and he was glad for the staff to help him walk. But when they finally crossed to stand in front of the small gate that lined the graveyard, Sully stopped and wavered. Cloud Dancing reached out his hand and rested it on Black Wolf's shoulder, hoping to steady him. Black Wolf's eyes misted over.

He didn't know if he could go inside the gate. Sully felt dizzy, his was chest tight, his breath catching in his throat. Even in the light of the full moon, he felt that with every step, he was going further back in time, into that black night where his world came crumbling down around him. Swallowing hard, Sully slowly stepped into the graveyard and began looking for Abigail's headstone.

Hours had passed since the ceremony and the moon was now far overhead, hanging in a cloudless sky of a brisk Colorado spring night like a giant lantern hanging in a window. Sully had only looked through one row before seeing her headstone before him, Hannah's next to it. Her name was carved lovingly, and seeing the word set in the wood made it so real that Sully fell to his knees. His heart was pounding, his guilt overwhelming him to the point where he started to sob.

He could hear her anguished screams as the labor pains ripped through her. She begged him to leave her and to go to town and fetch the midwife, Charlotte Cooper. He had insisted that he stay, that he couldn't leave her alone like that. Her face, her beautiful face always framed with those black curls was contorted in pain, red from screaming, wet with sweat and tears, those curls wild in every direction as she had thrashed on the bed in terrible pain. His palms felt the dirt over her grave, but all he could hear was her once tender voice screaming at him to find her help. When he finally consented, he ran faster than he had ever run in his entire life. Almost more terrible than staying to listen to her scream, was to leave and hear only the sound of the woods through which he ran, as if the night had swallowed her up whole.

Sully's body collapsed between Abigail's and Hannah's graves. One hand went over each of them, clawing at the dirt while he cried. He had screamed himself hoarse as he had run through town to get to Charlotte's door, and she had torn out of town in the wagon only minutes later. He could hardly catch his breath in the wagon to tell her what happened as her horse tore down the road to Sully's cabin. Charlotte could hardly get him to calm down as he yelled at her to whip the horses faster. He almost leapt from the buckboard before the horse was stopped. He would have surly broken his legs if Charlotte had not caught his shirt and held him fast.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Sully cried into the night. His clenched fists pounded the ground as his sobs poured out of him. "Abby forgive me!" He wanted to claw through the dirt and lay with her, to die in pain as she had endured. The grief consumed him.

"Daddy loves you so much, Hannah." Sully found himself saying. "Daddy is so sorry, little one. Don't you know Daddy's sorry? He loves you. I think of you every day…every day…" His words were barely understandable. His head ached, he could hardly catch his breath, but he needed to tell his baby all the things he had held inside, all that he would never get to tell her. He had only seen the top of Hannah's precious head for a second before Charlotte had closed the door behind her and left him outside in the dark to feel every one of Abigail's shrieks rip through the night.

"I could feel you kicking. Could you hear me? Can you hear me, baby?" He talked out loud with closed eyes, his words hitching in his throat as his breath came in short gasps. He pounded his head on the ground as he laid there and cried to Hannah. "I'm sorry! I'll love you forever. Daddy thinks of you every day." He began to pound the dirt again with dirty fists as his tears intensified. "Every day. Every day…" His strength began to leave him and he laid there as he had imagined doing ever since he deserted the army. The pain would not cease and neither would the tears.

Byron Sully laid there and cried, feeling that his world was ended, that his life was over, that he could not go on without the love of his wife and child. He had no family to turn to, certainly not his in-laws, no real friends for the town had sided with the Bray's over Sully stealing Abigail away from her arranged marriage. There was nothing now. Nothing but the dirt covering the caskets that held Sully's heart and soul.

As his tears began to die down from sheer exhaustion, a sound began to come to his ear. It was low, but distinct. Cloud Dancing was outside the gate, singing. At first, he felt a bit of anger towards the Indian as he was interrupting the graveyard with his strange chant. But as he tried to collect his strength to raise his head, the song began to become a part of the night, even of the moonlight itself. Sully found his breath returning to him, but he laid in the dirt where he had collapsed. The brisk night air blew through, the moonlight covered him, and the song began to weave the darkness and the light together.

Instead of lifting his head to yell at Cloud Dancing, it struck him that, out of everyone in the whole world, this man was risking being seen by the townsfolk to help this stranger get back to pay the final respects to his lost family. At such a late hour in such a strange place, not understanding the white man's customs, he still respected the burial ground and chanted a song over the dead, blessing those he had never known. Blessing some who many have never blessed him if given the opportunity.

"Don't be mad, Abby." Sully whispered to Abigail's grave. "He helped me get back to you." Sully knew Abigail's mortal terror of Indians and felt compelled to explain himself to her as Cloud Dancing continued his quiet song. He turned and whispered reassurances to Hannah, imagining her sweet face had he only been able to hold her in his arms. Charlotte had never let him see Hannah's body once the babe had been stillborn. He often tortured himself imagining she would have the same dark curls that Abigail once had. He talked to them both as the night wore on.

The song continued.


	12. Chapter 12

Cloud Dancing sat outside the gate of the white man's sacred burial ground and watched Black Wolf pick through the markers until he found his wife. Hearing him loose control was hard enough, but seeing him collapse onto the ground and beat the dirt made him turn his back. It made him think of Snow Bird and how much he loved her. He didn't want to entertain the thought of ever loosing her.

Most of what Black Wolf cried out was not clear to the medicine man, though he could pick out a few words. One that made him turn back around was the word 'Daddy'. He knew this was a term the white man's children would use when addressing their fathers. Black Wolf began using the word in his forlorn lament. As Cloud Dancing watched, he could see one of Black Wolf's hands covering one side with one marker, while the other hand covered another spot beside it. Two markers. Two graves.

Daddy.

Black Wolf had lost his child. _That_ was the other arrow in his heart that he had seen in the vision. Cloud Dancing turned back around and closed his eyes. It made great sense that the agony in the white man's eyes had not just been for his wife, but for his child as well. The second surely must've hurt Black Wolf more than the first, for he had not even been able to bring himself to mention the child to Cloud Dancing.

As Black Wolf's wailing carried on, Cloud Dancing sat himself where he could see a bit of the town to keep watch for someone who might hear him. He prayed to the Great Spirit while he watched the empty road. He asked for strength to keep helping Black Wolf, now that he was here. The spirits reminded Cloud Dancing of a song that Snow Bird had often sung to their son when he had been just a babe. As he asked for blessing over both of them, thanking the Great Spirit for avoiding the tragedy that Black Wolf had to endure, he began to sing the song out loud. And, after a few times through, he could tell that the white man's crying was calming down, so he kept singing. He hoped that somehow the spirits were directing him in the right path to help this lost man. The hours passed.

When the dim light of dawn began creeping over the hills, Sully realized that the moment had come when he had envisioned himself taking his life. This was the reason he had deserted the Army, and this was the time and place which he had promised himself would be his last breath on Earth. Loren would come to pay his respects later and find him there…

Sully turned and saw that Cloud Dancing was still at the gate, where he had been all night. He had not anticipated the Indian, or anyone for that matter, being here when he had imagined taking his life. He had certainly never imagined a man such as Cloud Dancing risking so much to help him. He never thought anyone like Snow Bird would take the time to fashion shoes for him. She spoke not a word of his language, yet she understood enough to bring him such a gift. If she knew her shoes had helped him to the graveyard so he could kill himself, what would she think?

He looked at the headstones as he sat up. After hours of pouring his hurt out, he was covered in dirt, exhausted, and feeling different. Oddly enough, Sully started to think of his own mother and how she had taken her life when he was just a small boy. Had she felt the same crushing sadness over loosing Pa then as he was feeling over loosing Abigail now? He thought about all the times he had needed his mother growing up, and she wasn't there to show him the way. Many times, he had been so mad at her for giving up. Would Hannah be ashamed to look down on her Pa from up in heaven, watching him give up too?

He hadn't been concerned before about the thought of Loren finding him there, dead on Abigail's grave. But now he thought that Loren might feel satisfaction on seeing Sully's demise. Loren would think that Sully had given up; he might even feel justified if Sully were to end it all now. He still felt spiteful towards his wife's father. Loren was a hard man who only saw things his way. If Sully decided to live to make Hannah proud and ended up spiting Loren in the process, so much the better.

He hadn't expected these thoughts, but as they came, something about his decision felt right. As he stood on shaky legs, he saw Cloud Dancing stand as well. Putting a hand on each headstone, he hung his head and prayed to the Lord above to help him through this one day. He promised each of them he would return, then very slowly walked back to the gate.

The men said nothing, walking slowly back towards the trees as they crossed the meadow. Stumbling out of the front door of the saloon stepped a bleary eyed Hank, who thought he saw two ghosts walk out of the graveyard over by the church. Shaking his head and muttering, he wandered back inside to sleep off what he thought to be too much whiskey from the night before.

Well hidden, Cloud Dancing led Black Wolf to a familiar copse of trees halfway between town and where his tribe was camped. It took the rest of Sully's strength to follow the deer trails they were on. Cloud Dancing picked out the hidden twists and turns as if he were reading an invisible map that was underneath the leaves and weeds. Sully barged through, snapping branches and stabbing at plants with his staff like a buffalo smashing through a corral. When they stopped, Sully leaned against the nearest tree, sweating.

"I can't keep up with ya anymore." He panted.

"You will rest here." Cloud Dancing said. Sully all but collapsed at the base of the tree.

"Where are we?" Sully asked.

"This is the…west trail close to camp." Cloud Dancing pointed towards more trees. "My people are not far. I will go to them and speak again with Black Kettle." Sully couldn't see any trail. He leaned his weary head back against the tree trunk. The past few hours had taken more than simply a physical toll; he was emotionally exhausted. His face and hair were covered in dirt, his hands hurt from beating the stones, and his head throbbed from crying over Abigail's and Hannah's graves. He couldn't describe how he felt inside; he was too worn out to think anymore.

"Why'dja stay?" Sully asked, his throat parched. Their eyes met. As Sully's tired blue eyes locked on Cloud Dancing's wise brown eyes, the unspoken answer was known. Afraid to mention the child that Black Wolf had lost, the medicine man decided to say nothing that would spark further grief and hope that Black Wolf would rest first before they spoke any further of those who had gone to the spirit world. The silence stretched out a bit, then Black Wolf nodded ever so slightly to Cloud Dancing.

"Rest here. I will return." Cloud Dancing ended all discussion with this command, then rose and disappeared into the maze of the woods. Even if Sully had wanted to follow, he hadn't the strength. He watched the Indian leave and took a drink of the water Cloud Dancing had left him.

The sun was over the trees and a new day was beginning. Sully thought of the months of hiding in the woods when dawn would signal to him the time to hide and sleep. He had been afraid that men from his regiment were out searching for him then. He wondered if he would have the same dreams of Abigail now that had haunted him all those months ago. But before he could worry further, he hearkened back to the prayer he'd prayed to the Lord before leaving the cemetery. _'Lord, help me through this one day.'_ And, almost immediately, he fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Cloud Dancing made quick time through the deer trails to his tribe. When he walked through camp, more than a few stopped and stared at him, whispering to each other about what he had been doing with the crazy white man. Little Flower ran back inside her tent, fearing he was bringing a white man's sickness among them that would surely kill them all. Snow Bird was at the stream with their son and some of the boys and did not see his return. He made his way to Black Kettle's tent, where he was already outside having words with one of the elders.

When Black Kettle saw Cloud Dancing approaching, he stopped and offered glad greetings to his medicine man. He walked tall and straight, and not a trace of fever was visible in his eyes. It was quite a relief to Black Kettle to see him back and well. He invited Cloud Dancing into his tent to eat and discuss the white man in private. Their own language was a comfort to Cloud Dancing, who had spoken mostly English in the past few days, except when Snow Bird had brought him food.

"The Great Spirit brings you back to us." Black Kettle said, offering Cloud Dancing bread. "The white man has no sickness." Black Kettle's wife brought them drink, then left them to talk in private.

"The healing circle has driven the dark spirit from Black Wolf. He made peace with his wife and child." Cloud Dancing could see the surprise on his chief's face. "I took him to the town, to the white man burial ground. There were two there he mourned. My vision was right to show two arrows in the black wolf's side." Black Kettle thought this over a while, knowing how dangerous a great sadness could be to any man, Indian or white. A wife and family was the dearest thing he had in his own life. He had seen many braves loose control without a family to center them.

"He will take a long time to heal." Black Kettle said finally, staring at his cup.

"He did not reject my prayers, as most white men. Spirits tell me he is different." Cloud Dancing said as he reached for another piece of bread.

"Different?" The chief asked, making a hand gesture.

"He searches for something to heal. Snow Bird brought him moccasins and it was then I saw the spirit of hope speak to him." Cloud Dancing said.

"Moccasins?" Black Kettle asked, surprised.

"Her gift showed something to him that had been hidden." After this, both men ate in silence. Cloud Dancing felt this silence between them was good, for it meant that his chief was thinking. Black Kettle never made an important decision without fully thinking it over. The longer he thought, the better he hoped to be able to help Black Wolf. Without the threat of sickness, there was potential to learn much from Black Wolf and his white man ways. But Cloud Dancing did not push his case.

When they had finished, the chief turned to the medicine man and held out his hand. The two clasped forearms in the handshake familiar to their people.

"I would meet Black Wolf." Black Kettle said. "Tonight."

Sully stood from the base of the tree he had been sleeping at and looked around. The sun was dazzling, the air was fresh, the birds were chirping loudly. Instead of feeling lost along the hidden deer trail, he suddenly felt as if he knew every inch of where he stood. He did not feel lost. Everything strangely looked familiar to him. He walked through the trees, guided in a direction for no particular reason.

When he found a small clearing, he pushed past the last sapling's branch to stand face to face with Abigail. Sully stopped dead in his tracks, dumbfounded. She was in a white dress with a beautiful blue sash about her waist. Her hair shone in the sun, curling everywhere in its lush ebony tones. Her face seemed lit from within and she stood holding the hand of a little girl who was the spitting image of her. Sully felt he was hardly breathing and was rooted to the spot as he took in the sight of the two of them standing there in the woods. She couldn't have been more than ten feet away from him, yet all he could do was smile at her.

Abigail smiled back at him, the smile she reserved only for him, the smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle in a way that always made his heart melt. The little girl beside her, also dressed in white with a yellow sash, waved at him with a chubby arm. Sully couldn't wave back; his arms felt like lead. His heart soared at the sight. She was beautiful, she was smiling, she wasn't in pain, she was…alright!

After only a moment, although it seemed like years to Sully's heart, Abigail took a step back towards the trees and began to turn as if to leave. At that instant, the paralysis was gone, and he stepped forward, reached out his hand and called her name.

"Abigail!" Sully said, lurching forward, coming face to face with Cloud Dancing. Sully was back at the base of the tree where he had fallen asleep a while before. Cloud Dancing knelt beside him, taken aback at the startling way with which Black Wolf awoke from his sleep.

Sully stared at Cloud Dancing, then looked all around him for signs of Abigail and the little girl. Everything looked as confusing as it had when Cloud Dancing had drug him up here through his mysteriously unseen deer trail. His heart was pounding, his mouth was dry, his thoughts were scattered.

"Did you see her?" Sully asked.

"You sleep." Cloud Dancing said. "Was there a dream?" Sully propped himself up against the tree and felt how stiff he was. He rubbed his face to help him wake up more.

"I walked over there and she was there. I saw her!" He insisted.

"A-bigail?" Cloud Dancing asked, testing the new word by speaking each part slowly.

"She was all in white…she was standing there, waiting for me. There was a little girl with her, maybe two or three." Sully started getting to his feet as he explained what he saw, unwilling as of yet to believe it had all been a dream. His foot gave him a little pain, and he staggered a bit, then looked down at his foot. "My foot…" He stretched it out a bit, flexing it, working out the stiffness. "My foot didn't hurt at all."

"A dream." Cloud Dancing said, standing. "Come. Show me." Grabbing his staff, Sully slowly led the way through the small trees of the underbrush towards where a small clearing coincided with the dream he had just had. Cloud Dancing said nothing as he followed Black Wolf. He knew right away where they were going. There was a special spot just ahead that he often would visit when he prayed to the spirits. It was a beautiful and quiet place. He had found many answers there in prayer.

When Black Wolf stopped at the very spot, Cloud Dancing could not help but smile. He watched the white man stand, transfixed, and look around in silence. Cloud Dancing knew the dream was definitely a sign, although Black Wolf did not yet realize it. The way the white man had led him through woods he had never traveled in meant it was clearly a sign.

"She…was right there." Sully whispered in an awed tone. The sight of her was still so fresh in his mind that it was as if she could step out from behind the trees at any moment. Cloud Dancing put his hand on Black Wolf's shoulder and the two men stood there a quiet minute in reverence for what had happened.

"She comes to tell you…she is alright. Your daughter too." Cloud Dancing said. Black Wolf turned to him, his eyes brimming with tears.

"What?" Sully asked, breathless. The Indian's eyes were solemn and wise.

"Spirits talk to me in this very place. You come back to her, she comes back to you." Cloud Dancing nodded as he looked around at the towering trees. In deep summer, their leaves filled in the canopy completely and made it a hidden refuge he often meditated in. Black Wolf took a ragged breath and ran his hands through his dirty hair, hardly able to take it all in.

"Daughter…" Sully hadn't recognized the girl at Abigail's side, but could it have been Hannah?

"You do not know her?" Cloud Dancing asked.

"She…died…at birth." Sully's voice broke and the tears slipped down his face. He had never been able to say the words aloud to another soul since the night that it happened. But the pain that usually came with that horrible fact was now replaced by the sight of the girl with the yellow sash, waving at him from her mother's side. She wasn't a babe, cold and stiff in the back of Charlotte's wagon now. She was a girl with her mom's beautiful curls. She was clean and white and smiling and safe. So was her mother.

They were both happy and ok.

Sully put his face in his hands, wiped away the tears, and took a deep breath. They stood in the sacred clearing another moment, then the two men looked at each other.

"They're both alright?" He asked the medicine man. Cloud Dancing could definitely see hope and peace returning to Black Wolf's eyes. The dream was a very good sign that the healing circle had brought him safely out of the power of the evil spirit. If his wife's spirit could come back to him, the darkness was gone now. Cloud Dancing nodded.

"You have had a good vision. We must go to the stream." He said to Black Wolf. Sully followed him all the way back to where stream near the healing circle where the two had met. The walk was slow, but it gave Sully a good chance to walk in silence and think about all that had happened. He never could have imagined ever getting the chance to see his darling wife again. Had he taken his life in the cemetery, he felt now that he never would have, either. The look on her face convinced him that all traces of her pain and suffering had vanished. It was such a relief to see that smile just one more time. And Hannah! She was a darling looking little girl. Sully would never have to worry about either of them being alone, because now he had seen them together.

As he finally waded into the stream with the medicine man, the cold water shocked him out of his reverie. The stinging chill was refreshing after so long on the trail in his quest to get back to Colorado Springs. He dunked his head to rinse the dirt from his hair. Without any pomade to tame his hair back as had been his style long ago, he could feel it go in every direction. The lack of worry about a society approved haircut felt curiously good. It had actually been a long time since anything had felt as good as that cold bath in the stream.

When he finished, Cloud Dancing was replacing the rocks from the healing circle in the stream where he had found them. He explained that, during his sleep, he had gone back to the tribe and spoken to the chief about him. Black Kettle wanted to see him and speak with him. This intimidated Sully who thought back to a few days ago when the tribe had come to the woods to see him lay pitifully in the healing circle. Black Kettle had looked formidable then, his word not to be questioned. Sully hoped that the meeting would be a friendly one.


	14. Chapter 14

After resting a few hours, Sully had packed up his scattered belongings from the army pack, shoving his black coat inside it as best he could. He followed Cloud Dancing through the woods to the Cheyenne camp. In old mended clothes, Snow Bird's secondhand moccasins, and wild hair, Sully felt that the army pack and his staff would only make him look more strange to these people, if possible. He wasn't sure how any of the Indians would take him. He stayed close to Cloud Dancing and didn't plan on speaking much. He remembered the braves that had found Cloud Dancing that first day and how they'd drawn their weapons on him. Sully didn't expect any of them to be as friendly as the medicine man had been.

Cloud Dancing re-entered his tribe's camp just before dusk while everyone was making preparations for the evening meal. Many stopped at the sight of Sully. Some men pushed the women back inside the tents for safety. A few women called out to their children in their native language and gathered them close to the tent as the strange white man passed. Cloud Dancing led the way and said nothing to any of them. Sully kept up just a few paces behind, his limping hardly as bad now.

One of the braves that Sully remembered from that first encounter suddenly approached Cloud Dancing. His hair was tightly braided, his necklaces looked like bone, and the leather pants he wore were tanned almost black. The two began arguing back and forth, and the young brave wrestled with his medicine man a bit before shoving him out of the way. Sully watched the confrontation, feeling the situation was about to become dangerous. The brave clearly was not happy to see Sully and was taking it out on Cloud Dancing. Before Sully could think, the brave screamed and charged him. Tossing aside his staff and army pack, Sully crouched out of instinct and, using the brave's strength and speed against him, he tossed him over his shoulder and onto the ground. Years in the mining camps had taught him how to defend himself without resorting to a gun or a knife.

Cloud Dancing shouted while a circle quickly started to form around the two men, separating the medicine man from his charge. The brave jumped up with hate in his eyes and spoke something that Sully did not understand. The men in the circle whooped and urged the brave on, waving their fists. Drawing a tomahawk out of his belt, he charged Sully again, determined to cleave his skull and finish the curse of the Black Wolf on his tribe. In Bright Spears heart, it was his duty to protect his people from the white man, no matter how much the old medicine man pleaded with everyone to do the opposite. Cloud Dancing must have come under the white man's spell. He, Bright Spear, would finally add this pitiful man's death to his list of accomplishments as a great warrior so that when Hook Nose, head of the dog soldiers, came back, he would see that he needed Bright Spear among his fighters.

Sully focused on the arm of the brave, knowing he had to disarm him or be severely wounded by the tomahawk. As the brave charged again, Sully barely caught his arm as it came down, sidestepped him, and flung him to the ground again. Keeping hold of the arm, he put his knee at the brave's elbow and pushed it as far as he dared. The brave yelped, dropped the tomahawk, and Sully kept the pressure up to explain to his challenger without words that he wanted the altercation to be over.

At this, someone shouted and, before the group of Indians descended upon Sully, everything stopped. Chief Black Kettle stood before them all, looking grim. Sully instantly unhanded the brave, but picked up the tomahawk to keep it out of his reach. Cloud Dancing was instantly at his side, now that the other Indians obeyed their chief's yell for the fighting to stop. The medicine man took the tomahawk away from Sully and stood closely to him, speaking harshly towards the brave while the Chief looked on. Many sided with the young warrior and began yelling back at Cloud Dancing. Chief Black Kettle shouted again, and all was silent.

He gave a few hand gestures while Sully caught his breath. He had half expected them to attack him, and his adrenaline had been up ever since stepping into camp. Now that the fight was over, however, he felt shaky and wanted to sit and compose himself. What little strength he had seemed to gain from the dream about his wife and daughter had vanished.

Turning away from the brave, the Chief looked at Sully and nodded. The group parted as Black Kettle walked back to his tent, and Cloud Dancing pushed Sully forward. The tribe watched in silence as the three entered the Chief's tent. Snow Bird gathered Black Wolf's strange pack he had carried into camp, and hurried it to where it would be safe until her husband returned. She knew if she left it, the braves would pick through it and destroy whatever might be of value to Black Wolf. The tail of the strange black coat hung out of the top of the pack, the omen that had plagued her husband for months, and she hoped now it might come to be a good omen.

Inside the tent a small fire burned. The two Indians settled themselves around the fire on large animal skins and Sully stood, unsure of what to do. He had not been spoken to directly and had not been invited to sit down yet. Black Kettle looked up at him and spoke.

"My Chief asks how far you travel." Cloud Dancing translated. No mention to sit next to them by the fire. Sully's legs felt like rubber from the confrontation outside. He'd wished he'd grabbed his staff.

"I'm not sure how many miles." Sully answered. Cloud Dancing shook his head, confused.

"He speaks of time. How long?" He reiterated, pointing towards the sky.

"Oh, well…it was spring when I left. I went through that first winter in the army, and then I…left…and I spent that second winter on a farm on my way home. Just about two years." It was the first time Sully had ever spoken about how long he had been away without getting a painful lump in his throat. The morning's dream was still so clear and comforting in his mind. Cloud Dancing translated Sully's answer to Black Kettle. Mention of the army concerned him, but Black Wolf no longer wore any uniform.

In Black Kettle's mind, two seasons alone was a long time to have to deal with the death of his family. Yet the transformation was amazing to him. Just a few days ago, he had seen this haggard white man lay in his medicine man's healing circle with death on his face. Now he came into the midst of their camp and made short work of one of the best young braves. He asked another question.

"Black Kettle says you did not fight to harm Bright Spear. Why did you not strike?" Cloud Dancing asked. Sully shook his head.

"Don't like to fight. Never did." Sully said solemnly. Cloud Dancing translated. This answer, more than most, pleased Black Kettle. He was an Indian who wanted peace for his people more than anything. In this day, many fights were going on between the white man's warriors and his own. They kept asking for peace, but would later change their minds. Why this white man had gone to fight without the desire, he could not be completely sure, but he saw the change of heart as good. With a few more words and gestures, he asked another question. Sully turned to Cloud Dancing.

"He asks if the healing circle has brought you peace." Cloud Dancing said. The word 'peace' now brought the sight of Abigail and Hannah to the forefront of his mind, in their perfect white dresses. Sully's hand unconsciously went to his heart, and he simply turned to the Chief and nodded, swallowing hard. He tapped his chest with the palm of his hand and nodded deeply, hoping his face would convey more than his words ever could about how he felt. Black Kettle nodded back at him, smiling for the very first time.

The two Indians began speaking amongst themselves. Sully watched them intently. It fascinated him that they had allowed him to step even this far into their culture when they could barely understand each other. He was sure this was a privilege that few, if any, white men were given. He thought back to his own people. If he had gone back to the army, the first thing they would have done was convicted him of treason and killed him without weighing his reasons for leaving. The laws of these Indians was so different. If an Indian had come onto a white man's land, nobody in the territory would've faulted the white settler for shooting the Indian on sight. However, Sully had come onto their land and had received the chance to explain himself and help them understand what he was going through before they passed such a harsh judgement on him.

"Will you go back to the army?" Cloud Dancing finally turned and asked. Without hesitation, Sully shook his head.

"They asked me to kill men who did not deserve to die. I only joined to loose my life out of grief. I can't go back." He crouched in front of the fire then, after standing throughout the entire interview. He was too tired to stand any longer, but, more importantly, he wanted to look the Chief in the eye as he answered this last question. "I…don't ever…want to go back." He said. The two men looked at each other while Cloud Dancing translated Black Wolf's answer.

So, Black Kettle thought, the leaders had lied to this white man about things in the same manner that they had lied to his own people about past treaties. They had told this man lies and had used his grief against him. Now he felt he couldn't return to his own people. Black Kettle knew he couldn't have Black Wolf move into Cloud Dancing's tent as if he were one of their own. His people would need much time to get used to the thought of having this white man on their side. He would also want a bit of distance to watch him until he was sure that this wasn't a clever spy, either. But he felt a kindred understanding towards this white man, this Black Wolf. Leaning forward, he spoke again.

"My Chief asks your name." Cloud Dancing said.

"Sully." The two Indians looked at each other and asked Sully to slowly repeat his name.

"Sully." Cloud Dancing repeated, testing the strange new word. Black Kettle merely made the hand gesture for a wolf, preferring that to speaking the name out loud for himself. Cloud Dancing nodded at Black Kettle. Then the two men stood, Sully shakily following.

"We know you are alone, and my Chief offers you peace with us. You cannot live here, but if you camp nearby, you may stay. He will speak to his braves. None will harm you. We would learn much from each other." Cloud Dancing explained. Sully nodded as he heard the terms of this new agreement. Peace and a chance to process all that had happened to him in the past few days was all he wanted. Up until this morning, peace was something he could never have until he was dead. This day had been filled with nothing but miracles and change. Sully couldn't say no to this man. He nodded deeply, repeating his heartfelt 'yes' over and over.

Black Kettle held out his hand. Sully went to clasp his hand in a white man's handshake. Before he could, the Chief grasped his forearm and spoke one simple word. "_Ha-ho_." Sully hesitated, then grabbed the great Chief's forearm with his hand, stumbling over the new Cheyenne word, but wanting so much to make him understand that he was grateful for what was being given.

"_A-ho_." Sully tried, just as they had tried pronouncing his own name.

"_HA-ho_." Cloud Dancing quickly corrected. Sully tried again, and this brought the second smile from Black Kettle, and they shook earnestly. Sully repeated his first Cheyenne word, and then he was invited to sit back down and eat.


	15. Chapter 15

Sully slept behind Black Kettle's tent that night. Custom would not let him remain inside the tent of any member of the tribe. Many of the other men had been waiting outside when Black Kettle's meeting with Sully had finished, and they grumbled to themselves about the events transpiring in their tribe. As Snow Bird brought blankets and a buffalo hide and Cloud Dancing helped him get settled for the night, Black Kettle again spoke to his people before retiring. Sully tried to listen to the talking, even though he couldn't understand the words, but as soon as he lay down after his full meal made by the Chief's wife, he could barely watch the emerging stars above before he was asleep.

The arguing, however, continued as the evening went on. The people had been convinced that the omen of the Black Wolf had been one of bad fortune for their people. They felt that the longer the white man stayed, the greater the trouble he would bring all of them. Bright Spear was enraged that he had lost his tomahawk in his earlier altercation with Black Wolf, and insisted on another chance to fight the pitiful white man to the death. Many stood behind the thought. For the time being, however, the brave's weapon remained inside the Chief's tent.

Black Kettle listened to all his people's thoughts on Black Wolf. He always wanted to know what his people were thinking so he knew how best to lead them. However, they were basing their beliefs on the past meetings they had had with other white men. They did not hear what Black Wolf had said during their talk. They did not see the look in Black Wolf's eyes as he talked of the betrayal done to him by the great war chief. Black Wolf was not another settler looking to steal any land for his growing family or his herd of cattle. He was not from the railroad, looking to kill the buffalo. He had nothing and simply wanted a chance to start his life over.

The elders had gathered and listened with their Chief as the night went on. When all had fallen silent, Black Kettle looked up at the night, watching the smoke from the fire trail up into Father sky. Everyone grew very quiet and the angry conversation died out completely.

"Black Wolf wishes no more time with his people. He lost his family and the great war chief lies to this white man as he lies to us!" Black Kettle said.

"All white men lie!" One shouted from the crowd.

"Cloud Dancing betrays us!" Shouted another. Everyone murmured. Their medicine man had seen them all through various conditions at one time or another, and he was greatly revered. Bringing a white man into their midst was something most could never have predicted Cloud Dancing to do. Cloud Dancing came to his feet to defend himself.

"I went to help Black Wolf as I would help any of you!" He insisted. "I must listen to what the spirits tell me!"

"My medicine man speaks with the spirits." Little Bear, one of the elders, spoke up. "We could learn much from this white man." As the talking continued, Black Kettle stood. He was tired, it was late, and he had discussed Black Wolf enough for one night.

"A white man walked into my tribe…wearing moccasins Snow Bird had made. When my brave attacked…he did not kill him. He stood before me tonight until…I asked him to sit and eat. Weary from his travels, he listened…to my medicine man…instead of his own." Everyone glanced around to find Snow Bird, and she hung her head, honored to be remembered for such a small gesture towards the stranger.

"He stays." And with that, Black Kettle went to his tent for the night. The crowd broke up and Cloud Dancing went to his wife.

"Do I not give you excitement anymore?" She asked her husband as they walked back to their tent, referring to the days events. He smiled to himself, for he had missed her gentle teasing in the past few days. With a hand on her arm, he answered her without words, and she smiled back in silent reply. Whatever it all meant, her husband had managed to get Black Wolf to see that his life was worth living. That was a good thing, for all life, to her, was precious. Now, he just had to convince everyone else that Black Wolf's life was worth saving.

The next morning, Sully awoke to find several young children crouched around him, watching him sleep. They were all boys, not more than seven and eight years old. Hunched a safe arms length away, they formed a semi-circle around him as if they were daring each other to touch the strange white man. Sully thought of using the only Cheyenne word he knew, but he didn't trust himself with it. He didn't want to use it in the wrong context and do the wrong thing. As he propped himself up on his elbow a bit, they all leaned back in unison. Holding up his hand to wave at them, they instantly bolted, not unlike a flock of birds taking flight simultaneously. Their giggles rippled through the camp as they scattered, leaving Sully alone.

Stretching stiffly, he sat up and thought about all that had gone on in one short day. As he wondered what today might bring, an old Indian woman came around the corner of the tent, a pair of snow white braids trailing down each side of her head. She had a large flat woven basket in her hands. The basket had no lid, and with low sides, he could see she was carrying food to him, using the basket as if it were a tray. Her eyes were as large as dinner plates, and it made him feel guilty that his strange appearance frightened her. Giving a slow nod, he ran his hands through his hair a bit, hoping to tame it down. Crouching down a safe distance from him and coming no closer, she carefully sat the basket on the ground near the edge of the buffalo skin.

"Thank you." He said, half whispering. His voice caused her to jump to her feet, but she did not turn and run as the boys had done. Mesmerized, she watched as he inched towards the food and took some of the fresh bread. The smell made his stomach growl, and he gave her a quiet smile as he ate it. Sully hoped that, if this was her first encounter with a white man, that she would decide that he wasn't going to harm her at all.

For Small One, the minutes watching Black Wolf eat her bread seemed to stretch into hours. She was terrified that he would leap at her in a moment and harm her as the others had warned. But she had decided last night that she would find out for herself what to think of the white man that had come to be in their camp. Small One all but leapt out of her braids when he had spoken his strange language to her. She hadn't expected his voice to be as gentle as it was. He kept nodding to her, and she guessed he wanted her to understand that he liked her bread.

She watched Black Wolf a few more minutes. His clothes were old and torn, and it was clear it had been a while since he had eaten enough. He remained quiet and said nothing more to her while she studied him. Her great Chief had told all that this white man had been lied to. Black Kettle had often told her and her family that the white war chiefs lied about the treaties they offered. Small One did not know what to think, except that it must be horrible to be white and never hear truth spoken around one's own fire. It was clear he had no family to take care of him, and that made her sad, too.

With that, she left, convinced the others had been mistaken.

Snow Bird arrived a while later with meat of her own for Black Wolf to eat. Cloud Dancing was close behind her. Sully took some of the fresh meat, again nodding without speaking. Snow Bird nodded back to him, not understanding any of the white man's words that her husband sometimes used.

"Today we find you a place to set up your tent." Cloud Dancing said. "You cannot stay here with the tribe." Sully's perplexed look conveyed his worry without words. Snow Bird said something quietly to Cloud Dancing as she gathered the blankets. She could see the confusion on Black Wolf's face.

"You are not Cheyenne. You cannot live here with us. You will build your fire just beyond the trees…" Cloud Dancing explained while pointing to the south. "..and we will get to know one another. You have Black Kettle's trust. You must gain trust with others now." He turned to walk towards the south, and as he did, Sully saw that he had a large pack on his back. Sully and Snow Bird followed him, and, just out of sight of Black Kettle's tent, the medicine man stopped.

"You will build your fire here." Cloud Dancing said. Sully looked around, seeing that there was nothing to afford him real shelter from the weather. Snow Bird sat down the blankets and left.

"A bit open." He said simply.

"No rain comes until I help you build shelter. A good fire will protect you from any animals." Not wanting to protest, Sully nodded. There was a large open field a stone's throw from where they stood, and he could hear the gentle sound of water behind him. The space had everything he would need, and he instinctively trusted Cloud Dancing. They began looking for branches that would help construct a lean-to for Sully to sleep under. They built the shelter until midday when Snow Bird brought them fish for lunch The afternoon was spent constructing a central fire pit for Sully to use for his cooking and nightly protection from animals. Thoroughly exhausted from so much work, he ate heartily and slept soundly as soon as they had finished that day. By that next evening, Sully had his own place established at the far south end of the Cheyenne camp.

The very next morning, before Sully could do anything, Cloud Dancing appeared with Bright Spear, the brave that had challenged him when he'd walked into camp. The brave's face was stern, and in his hand was the tomahawk he'd tried to use against Sully. Sully quickly got up to greet them, hoping the Indian didn't want to fight him again.

"What's this?" Sully asked, looking back and forth at both of them.

"We come to give a gift in thanks. You gave Bright Spear his life." Cloud Dancing turned to Bright Spear and spoke Cheyenne to him. Slowly, the brave held out his tomahawk, handle first, to Sully. He was hesitant to take the weapon.

"I didn't give him anything." Sully said, unsure of what the Indian meant.

"In showing…kindness to Bright Spear by…not killing him, you…give his life to him as a gift." Cloud Dancing was slow in explaining as he did not know the right words to say what he wanted to say in English. The three men stood there an awkward moment. "You could have killed him, yes?" He asked.

"Well…" Sully mulled over the thought a minute, shrugging. "I…I could have, yes." The thought made his stomach turn. He heard the rifle shot go off in his mind. Killing another person was the last thing he ever wanted to do. Ever again. "He doesn't think I wanted to kill him, does he?" Sully quickly asked.

"A warrior always fights his best. Had he won, he would've killed you. He thinks all real warriors do the same." Cloud Dancing explained.

"I just want peace. I don't want any of them to think I would ever hurt them." Sully stressed. Cloud Dancing held up his hand.

"In not killing him, you made his life…his gift from you. His weapon is a gift in…re-turn?" Cloud Dancing paused, wondering if that word was right. Sully nodded to say that he understood the medicine man's words. "It will remind you of your…" Cloud Dancing stopped, unable to think of a word that was accurate. The two men stood there a moment, unable to communicate.

"Mercy?" Sully asked, trying to help Cloud Dancing think of the right word to finish his sentence.

"Mer-cy?" Cloud Dancing asked. "What does this word mean?"

"Means…havin' power over someone and not usin' it." Sully explained. "'Cause it wouldn't be the right thing to do." The medicine man nodded at this explanation.

"Yes…yes, mercy." He gestured to Bright Spear, spoke again, and the brave held out the tomahawk. Sully accepted the weapon slowly, half bowing, half nodding to the brave as he did so. The moment it was out of Bright Spear's hand he turned and walked away. He felt he should have tried to shake the brave's hand, to show him that he just wanted peace. Perhaps he would have a future chance to continue mending fences with Bright Spear.

They both watched him leave and Sully turned the tomahawk over, feeling the balance of the handle to the blade. It had been highly polished at one time, clearly made by a strong and accomplished blacksmith. Bright Spear had dulled it with much use. Sully held it in both hands, afraid to do anything with it at the moment. He had used hatchets before in farm work, but this was much different. This held a power that was not to be abused.

"You will teach other words?" Cloud Dancing asked.

"I'll try." He said quietly.

"We will teach each other." The medicine man was very happy at this, and Sully only nodded as he looked at the tomahawk. He hoped that the tribe would come to see that he wanted to help them, and not hurt them in any way. That was the gift he wanted to give them most of all.


	16. Chapter 16

That first week after dreaming of Abigail and Hannah, Sully felt different. The painful memories didn't haunt his dreams. The guilt was finally easing, and a light was coming into his eyes as he began to wake up and see that life could still hold a purpose for even him. He felt a peace settle into his heart, a closure for the terrible thing that had happened to him. For the first time in years, he was able to wake up and enjoy the sunrise without feeling like he didn't deserve to see such beauty. There was no sign of the army, either. He allowed his body to rest, not making any further improvements to his shelter or camp area. When his daily time with Cloud Dancing was over, he rested. Sometimes, he just walked the area to reacquaint himself with the land.

He'd known how to set small snares and traps to catch game since his mining days, and on this morning, he took a walk to check for any breakfast he might have caught. The first two were empty, but he hoped for success at the third trap. He had found a nice area where there was a lot of signs of rabbits, and as he got close, he heard the sounds of a large animal. Hiding himself, he crept up on the clearing slowly.

Where there had been a rabbit caught in his snare, there was now a mother bear and her cub feasting on his breakfast. She was a large animal, formidable, and the cub was only a few months old, maybe. He had never seen a bear that close, and he only lingered a moment so he wouldn't draw her attention. Luckily, Sully had wandered to the clearing downwind from the bear, and she happily shared the rabbit with her cub, giving him no notice.

Walking back to his lean-to without any food, he wasn't completely dejected. In loosing his breakfast, he'd been able to see a fantastic animal that most people back East would never be able to see or appreciate. Most farmers and settlers were always killing anything that might disrupt their crops or harm their livestock without thinking of the repercussions they were having on the land around them. Without all the animals to keep things in balance, he could imagine a world of too many rabbits in the fields and too many fish in the streams. Farmers might not see that as a bad thing, but what else would be out of balance if there were suddenly too many fish? His mind wandered, wondering about the balance of nature.

Cloud Dancing was waiting for him at the lean to when Sully returned to his fire. He stood and they greeted each other.

"You walk early to think?" Cloud Dancing asked.

"Checked my traps. A bear got my rabbit before I did." Sully said.

"Nahqui." Cloud Dancing said, giving a gesture to go with the name. "Bear." Sully smiled and sat at his fire to stoke the coals from the night before and add some wood, then stopped to laugh.

"Guess I don't need ta get the fire going without any breakfast." He said. Cloud Dancing smiled.

"My son had luck this morning. Come join us." Cloud Dancing offered. They both got up to walk into the Cheyenne camp. Sully was able to visit and walk among the tribe during the day with Black Kettle's blessing, and was starting to get more used to the stares the other Indians gave him. In the past week, he had been given a buckskin shirt from Black Kettle's wife to replace his tattered one the Botkins had given him. It still felt odd to him, but it helped him blend in.

"This bear…" Cloud Dancing returned to the subject as they walked. "It was with cub?"

"Yes." Sully answered. "Have you seen it before?" The medicine man nodded.

"Her cave is not far from here. She is faithful to this area and we respect her. You will put snares on the other side of the creek." Cloud Dancing explained. Sully nodded

"You don't hunt bear?" He asked.

"We do, but she is special to our tribe. She is our neighbor just as you are now our neighbor as well. She is of no harm to us." By then, they had arrived at the tent and went inside to share breakfast.

"If you don't bother her cub." Sully quickly added.

"This is true." Cloud Dancing said with a smile.

That evening, after a successful afternoon of fishing and gathering a fresh stockpile of wood, Sully had finished eating and bathed in the stream. As he sat in his lean-to and waited to dry, he sat by his fire and looked at the shirt he'd been given. He marveled at the stitching, at the tanning of the hide, and the decoration that had gone into a simple shirt. This tribe of Indians were not savages like so many back East described them to be. This was a very skilled and complex people, with their own code of rules, with their own standards of working, and the more he saw of them, the more he was impressed.

He thought back to the healing circle Cloud Dancing had put him in. Sully remembered when he had tried to leave, and the medicine man had finally put his hands on his shoulders, risking possible sickness to try and save Sully. Cloud Dancing had called him 'Black Wolf'.

He'd heard wolves in the hills often, but, unlike the bear earlier, he had never seen a wolf up close. The only time he'd been near enough to touch a wolf was when someone had shot one close to the army camp. They'd left the carcass out behind the tents to rot. What a waste, Sully now thought. If these Indians had taken a wolf, they surely would've used the fur and maybe claws or meat.

Cloud Dancing had said that the tribe saw a black wolf as a bad omen. Perhaps it was a good thing that Sully had never seen one. Maybe they were more ruthless than a regular wolf. He let his mind wander on hunting and of all the great beasts that roamed that he'd only heard of. Sully didn't notice Cloud Dancing approach until he was almost seated next to him.

"Ha-ho." Cloud Dancing said, startling Sully. The two shook and then Sully put on his shirt whether he was dry or not. Next to his dark skin, Sully felt white as snow, with hardly any muscle left from his days training in the army. They'd spent most of their down time in tents, not sitting around in the sun like the tribe did. Cloud Dancing laid down a flute between them without explaining why he had it with him.

"My prayer has been good today. I come to check if you are well." Sully pointed to the fish bones, and Cloud Dancing gave an approving nod.

"Just fine." Sully said. "Anything wrong?"

"Prayer with the spirits every day is good. I do not only talk to them in time of trouble. Keeps balance." He warmed himself by Sully's fire, enjoying the fiery sunset before them.

"Been thinkin' of balance." Sully admitted. "Thinkin' about wolves." He used a small stick to poke at the fire.

"You see a wolf?" Cloud Dancing asked.

"No, but…after seein' that bear today, I thought of all the people that live in the city that will never get ta see something like that. Wonder what else I might see out here."

"Your people only live to fight. They do not see how to live with the land." Cloud Dancing was wondering where Sully's thoughts were going.

"You called me Black Wolf and I been wonderin' if you ever saw one?" Sully turned to his Indian friend.

"Wolves stay away from camp. I see one once, while hunting deer, but only one." Cloud Dancing admitted. Sully turned back to the fire.

"Everybody's afraid of bears back East, but today, that mother bear was so beautiful and…if you don't bother them, they really are…" Sully let his thought trail off. He didn't think Cloud Dancing would understand if he called the bear 'pretty' but he really couldn't think of a better word to use. Seeing the large animal being so motherly to her cub, peacefully eating without even knowing he was watching them was a really special moment to him. "…I just wonder if wolves are the same."

Cloud Dancing thought about this for many minutes. This white man thought more like a young brave than he could have guessed. Black Kettle would be glad to hear of this talk later. It would help the other members of the tribe come to trust Sully if they knew what reverence he had for the land and the animals around him. The fact that Sully thought that wolves could be as beautiful as the nahqui told him that this white man did not see the world as his brothers did. Sully saw the world through different eyes.

"When the spirits say it is time, they will show you what you want to see." Cloud Dancing said. With that, he picked up his flute, smiled, and walked off in the dusk to return to his tent for the night. Sully watched him leave, a bit surprised that he left so quickly. Perhaps the talk of bad omens possibly being beautiful bothered him. But couldn't some things, even in their terrible nature, be beautiful in their own way? A few weeks ago, Sully couldn't have felt more ugly and terrible, and yet, Cloud Dancing had seen enough in him to save him. Couldn't a wolf hold the same potential?

He drifted off to sleep that night thinking about spirits and wolves.

Snow Bird was laying by the fire when Cloud Dancing came in.

"You have seen to Black Wolf again?" She asked him, already knowing the answer. Now that the chief had granted Black Wolf to stay, she knew her husband would visit him as often as he could to learn as much as he could. She watched him put away his flute. Then he laid down next to her.

"Today, he met the great She-Bear and now the spirits bring him thoughts of wolves." He said softly.

"Wolves?" She asked, turning towards him.

"He believes the bear holds great beauty in her terrible power. He wonders if wolves do as well." Cloud Dancing closed his eyes as he spoke, enjoying the quiet talk before bed with his wife.

"The Great Spirit does not make ugly things." Snow Bird said. "Everything has its beauty." The tone of her voice told him that she was tired. He smiled in the dim firelight, reaching out to touch her face tenderly. Her hand came up to rest on his hand, and she smiled back.

"My wife is wise." He said to her.

"My husband is wise to believe his wife." She said. Leaning over, she kissed him, then dropped off to sleep, the crackling of the fire comforting both of them.


	17. Chapter 17

More and more, the tribe began to let him in. Sully couldn't tell at first because of the language barrier. Cloud Dancing would be the one to come and tell Sully of tribe members who had spoken to him about the white man, asking various questions or suggesting certain things. One of the stories was about a woman named Little Flower who had offered to help make Sully some more traditional leggings so he would feel more at home with the tribe. Thankfully, Cloud Dancing told her that the white man would be more suited to pants. In little ways like this, a few members were trying their best to live by the chief's wishes in accepting the white man, Black Wolf, as one of their own. Cloud Dancing was having no luck getting anyone to call him Sully, so, for the time being, the Indian name stuck.

One afternoon, the two had been walking and came to the grove where Sully had seen Abigail and Hannah. Cloud Dancing hadn't heard mention of Sully's wife and child since that day and he wondered if today might be a good time to meditate there and have some prayer over the quiet days that Sully had been enjoying. He had been trying to show Sully that prayer to the Great Spirit in all things was good for a member of the tribe.

Cloud Dancing sat on the ground quietly while Sully wandered around. In his buckskin shirt and old cotton pants, he looked half Indian and half white. His hair was becoming unruly, he had a beard coming in, and everything gave the appearance of a lost dweller of the mountains. But he still hadn't mastered how to walk silently through the woods and his speech and manner were so gentle and kind that Cloud Dancing had to wonder if he'd ever be able to have the fight of a warrior again. The white man's war had most certainly changed him.

"Your heart asks you to sit and pray." Cloud Dancing said. Sully turned and looked over at him.

"You keep bringing that up..." He began, then turned to look at the trees. "...but I just don't know what to say." What Sully's mother had taught him long ago about praying to God was fuzzy, and what he had prayed for in recent months was from a dark place in his heart. Now that things were more settled and peaceful in his life, Sully didn't know what he should keep asking for.

"Prayer is talking sometimes. But prayer is listening. Yes?" Cloud Dancing said, resting his hands on his knees and looking up to the sky. The trees canopy was filling in and soon, only a small patch of Father sky would be seen. Sully looked up at the sky from where he stood.

"What am I listening for?" He asked, straining to hear a bird's cry, or maybe thunder. He felt that he was supposed to hear something dramatic, something big that a spirit would use to communicate.

"Nothing." Cloud Dancing said, closing his eyes and smiling up at the sky.

"How am I gonna hear prayer if I don't hear nothin'?" Sully asked, confused.

"How do you hear anything when speaking?" Cloud Dancing asked back without moving or opening his eyes. With a frustrated sigh, Sully picked a bed of moss and sat in it. He crossed his legs and tried to quietly look around him. As he started to take in how small he was amid the giant trees surrounding the clearing, he recalled the feeling he had when he saw his wife and child in that same place. He focused on that happy feeling and stared at the place where they had appeared to him, thinking maybe that was what he was supposed to do. But there was nothing but the songs of the birds, and far off distant voices of the tribe as they went about their day.

"Everything has a voice." Cloud Dancing suddenly said, his deep voice sounding very relaxed. "To hear it, you must hear what it does not sound like. Then you will know what it does sound like. In silence, you separate each voice…to better hear…each prayer." Closing his eyes, Sully tried to focus on the sounds around him to separate out what he could hear. He had been thinking that Cloud Dancing would start teaching him this history of the Cheyenne and what they believe, but the medicine man kept holding back a lot of his personal culture to talk to Sully about more basic things. Sully understood that he wasn't going to instantly become an Indian, but for his first real Indian friend, Cloud Dancing, to hold back bothered him a bit. The medicine man's cryptic words frustrated him further.

The two sat in the clearing for quite a while before Sully couldn't stand it any longer. He got up in a huff and began walking back towards the path. Just as he passed by Cloud Dancing, the medicine man spoke.

"You have heard from the Great Spirit?" He asked.

"I've heard everything for miles, everything but any spirit!" Sully said, exasperated. "There's squirrels chattering, leaves falling, wind blowing, birds everywhere...heck, I can hear the tribe talking when everything else is quiet! This just isn't working." And with that, Sully walked off, leaving Cloud Dancing on the ground. The Indian smiled to himself, knowing that it wasn't the right time for Sully to understand what he was trying to teach. He closed his eyes again and let Sully walk off by himself.

Sully walked past the Cheyenne camp, past his own lean-to, and beyond the stream Cloud Dancing had shown him weeks ago. Looking for a quiet place led him far up into the hills until he was just about lost. His mind swirled with thoughts of all that he'd gone through. Was he was cut out to stay with these peace-loving Indians, or was their way of life was going to be too much for him to figure out. With their language being so different, he still felt rather isolated in only being able to speak to Cloud Dancing. And lately, even that was becoming confusing as the medicine man tried to show him things. Sully worried that he didn't fit in anywhere anymore.

Exhausted, he finally came out of his fugue and found himself standing on a large rock outcropping at an overlook just before a line of pine trees. As he turned around to figure out where he was, endless acres unfolded before him in a breathless panorama. He could see the stream he'd passed, and even the smoke through the trees showed him where the Cheyenne were camping, far below. From here, the mammoth trees were dwarfed by the vastness of the evening sky. The perspective it gave him left him standing still and silent for a long time as he took it all in.

In everything that had happened to him recently, he'd really had no way to visualize just how far he'd come from those dark days of praying for death. This view, this place showed him the land that stretched on out of sight, vast and endless. Clouds dotted the horizon as evening came on. Here, although there was wind, everything else was quiet. No campfires, no Indian children, no squirrels. It felt right that he be there, and he felt a special sense about him that this place was somehow his, that coming up here wasn't random.

Without hearing anything, without praying a prayer, Sully communed with the Great Spirit for the first time, although he didn't quite realize it. In appreciating the grandeur of nature around him, he was taking in the spirit of the land. He felt gratitude for being able to see so much of the countryside in the warm hush of evening. The setting sun was casting a golden glow all around. His heart felt good to be able to take in the view, and he silently wondered to himself if Abigail and Hannah were able to see the same beauty from their home in heaven.

Sully knew that he would never make it safely back to his lean-to before dark came. He decided to stay there at the outcropping and walk back in the morning. The freedom to decide that without worrying about any reprimand from an Army official or anyone worrying about him was a curious feeling. He hoped Cloud Dancing wouldn't worry, but after that thought, he was too busy cutting pine boughs for a makeshift shelter to think more of it. As he worked, he came across berries, fiddleheads, and even a birds nest with five eggs. Gathering materials for a quick fire, he had a small meal of all he'd found, knowing it was too dark to do any real hunting. It was by far one of the strangest meals he'd had in a while, but he was proud that, in his short time with Cloud Dancing, that he'd been able to learn so much about what resources he had around him. As he relaxed by the fire, he wondered how many times he'd passed by fiddleheads in his journey back to Colorado Springs without even knowing it.

As sleep began to overtake him, a wolf howled close by and brought Sully back to full attention. As another wolf answered him, it sounded even closer, and he put another few branches on his fire. It had never occurred to him that afternoon that he might be trekking directly up into their territory. He knew that, as long as his fire was going, that he should be alright. He hadn't caught any animals for dinner, so there would be no scent of meat to draw them into his small camp.

The night was a long one of fitful sleep for Sully as the wolves howled around him throughout the night. For Cloud Dancing, the night was even longer as he thought of his inexperienced charge out in the hills somewhere, alone. When he had gone looking for Sully after finishing his time meditating, he had found the white man's lean-to empty. Now, the wolves were calling to each other through the darkness and the medicine man had to pray that Black Wolf wasn't out in the wilderness somewhere, entertaining the thought of trying to see one up close.


	18. Chapter 18

The morning dawned cold and raining. A hole in the cover of Sully's quick shelter from the night before brought him out of his sleep when drops of water started hitting his back. The rain wasn't hard, and by the time he had closed the hole, it had stopped. The shower brought out the fresh smells all around him. Fresh pine and clear morning air beckoned him to walk, to discover more of the land around him. Checking the coals he had banked in the night, he started out intending to just follow the ridge and come back with some sort of breakfast to cook over the fire before putting it out for good and heading back down to the Cheyenne camp.

Once he got started, however, his curiosity got the better of him and he found himself rambling far longer than he had intended. He knew these woods and areas were the Cheyenne hunting grounds, but he still had the strange thought that he might be the first white man to ever see these rocks and trees, might be the first one to really discover these secret little places and enjoy them after an early morning rain. Keeping west as the sun rose, he tried to keep his bearings, thinking that, when he came to a landmark he'd be able to remember, he'd turn back. But the sights kept him entranced, and he walked on without picking one certain spot at which to turn around.

When it was around noon, Sully came to a clearing. Before him was the ripped up carcass of a kill that had been dead a few days. The bones had been picked mostly clean, and what was left had turned black in the heat. He stopped and tried to listen for any animals that might be nearby, but heard nothing but hawks in the distance. Walking through the clearing, there was nothing more remarkable about the area, and he decided that the kill had been a deer. Just before he got to the tree line on the opposite side, Sully heard what he thought to be a squeak of something behind him.

Frozen in his tracks, he turned slowly to see a wolf cub sitting up against a rock. He had been hidden behind it when Sully had approached, but now that the two saw each other, the cub made the small noise again. Searching the trees and everything around him for a sign of white or gray, Sully held very still as he tried to pinpoint the mother. Getting between the mother and the cub of any animal was a very dangerous thing to do. Sully knew wolves traveled in packs and feared that he would not only have to contend with the mother of this cub, but the entire cub's family. The grisly white bones of the dead deer leered there in the clearing, ominously white in the hot sun of noon. They were a harbinger of what could happen out here to those who weren't careful.

The wolf cub barked this time, and Sully stopped scanning the area to look at the cub. The two regarded each other a long, tense minute. Then, Sully slowly started inching backwards toward the trees. As he took a few hesitant steps back, the wolf cub barked and squeaked a few times, coming to it's feet. Taking an unsure step away from the rock, the cub fell, and slowly righted itself. Sully froze again, and scanned, sure the mother would come now. He tried to focus on downwind, as he'd be easier to smell from that direction. The cub fell again, but Sully was too nervous about being attacked to really watch what was happening. Long minutes of Sully slowly backing away from the cub's cries were dominated by the hammering of his heart.

As nothing continued to happen, Sully finally looked down and watched the cub that was so earnestly trying to make it into the clearing. It was holding up its one hind paw, which was throwing it off balance. Touching it on the ground seemed to make it cry out, and when it did stand, it seemed a little thin to Sully, though he had never seen a living wolf in his life.

Crouching, yet continuing to expect an attack at any second, he watched the cub. After considerable effort, the little wolf made it to the bones of the kill and stopped. It sniffed what was left of the meal from days ago, then looked around, forlornly. Sully's tender heart went out to the cub, and the strange thought came to him that it might have been abandoned by the mother. It laid there, completely exposed in the clearing, tired out from it's stumbling walk, and there was no adult wolf there to take it back to the den or protect it. The den. Sully wondered if the cub had been lost but was now trying to crawl back to its den. The cub had been coming in Sully's direction. What if he was backing up right into a wolf den?

His fears rising anew, Sully suddenly stood and began looking for a way to back away in a different direction. Straining to hear any echoing replies of fellow cubs, he inched into the trees, trying to see signs of activity in the leaf litter at his feet. But, again, there was nothing. No adult wolves showing up, no calls from littermates, no sign of any footprints or tracks of any except his own. The little cub, who had been resting in the clearing, began its cries anew when Sully backed out of sight into the trees.

Feeling he was safely out of immediate danger, Sully stopped at a rotted log and sat down. He was sweating and trembling from the thought of being mauled by an angry mother wolf in the middle of this hidden place. Taking off his shirt, he tried to gather his thoughts as the soft cries of the little wolf cub still echoed to him from the clearing. He wondered what Cloud Dancing would think of this experience. He had been telling Sully that everything has a purpose and that the spirits talk to everyone in many ways. Was this a way for the spirits to communicate to him through this wolf cub? Was this an evil omen, as the tribe believed wolves to be? Sully also had to think of the danger he had put himself in while not paying attention to his surroundings. Might Cloud Dancing forego the meaning the spirits might have been giving him to admonish him for stumbling into a wolf den?

The baby wolf kept up the commotion until Sully couldn't stand his curiosity anymore. He crept back toward the clearing. The cub had followed the path that Sully had used to back away from the clearing, and had gotten tangled in a scraggly patch of weeds. They had been so low to Sully that he had merely stepped over them without trouble. But this little cub had barreled headlong into them, and now it was caught on the small branches that held sticky burrs. Normally, an animal would brush past such a weed and a burr would stick to the fur until it was brushed off, and then the seed would start a new plant. But for such a small fuzzy cub, the burrs were like a net, tangling the cub as it tried to hobble and crawl after Sully.

Watching from a few feet away, he waited for some wolf to come and rescue the cub. But the woods were as still as before, and there was no sign of any member of the pack around to pull the small cub out of the weeds. With its hind leg still held up against its body, the little one could hardly make any headway, and stopped to pant, exhausted.

A hawk again sounded overhead, and made Sully think about the predators that might roam the woods to eat such a small defenseless cub like this. The hawk wouldn't descend into the trees, but other hungry creatures could certainly make a quick meal of a wounded cub. He thought that perhaps it hadn't been able to keep up with the rest, and so had gotten left behind. Sully also thought of what all could be wrong with the cub's leg. He had seen flies lay eggs into animals that ate their way out of the skin as they grew, crippling the animal. Infections from various cuts could also be to blame. Anything really serious would only prompt that Sully put the lost cub out of its misery.

He walked back towards the cub after long minutes of watching it from a safe distance. When he came into view, the cub gave a tiny bark. It had been resting, but now began its frantic crawl anew, trying to get out. He hushed the animal as he approached, intending to rescue it out of the weeds. Sully could hear Cloud Dancing's warning ringing in his ears, but he couldn't stand to leave it there, bad omen or not. When he reached out his hand, he half expected to be bitten. But the cub quieted and tried to paw at Sully's hand. He tore the weeds apart and lifted the small cub out of harm's way, setting it on the ground beside him. It was shaking, but did not squirm or protest the save at all. Immediately, the cub fell over, trying to turn around to see Sully.

Sully thought back to a batch of kittens he had found shortly before his father had died. The strays had spit and hissed at him in their fear of him when he had found them in the alleyway. But this cub made no attempt to defend itself from Sully. It wasn't afraid of him at all. It looked up at him and squeaked in its tiny way. Hesitant to touch it again, he watched it a minute. The pup was not content to be looked at, however, and inched its way across the ground until it could touch Sully's moccasin. Picking it up again and resting it in his lap, the wolf cub was quiet, allowing itself to be turned onto its back so that he could try and see the injured paw.

'If it's bad, I gotta put ya down.'

The cub squealed in protest as he tried to touch the injured foot, curling its reddened paw tight, and twisting and turning in pain. But as Sully managed to hold it still and straighten the leg, the paw opened enough that he could see something stuck between the pads of the paw. Everything was black with dried blood, and as he picked at it, the cub wriggled and tried to bite his finger, yelping in pain. There was no pus from infection, no insect bite that he could see, just a sharp splinter caught in the cub's foot. Just as he was beginning to loose patience from the heat and the wiggling mass of fur, the splinter loosened and came out in Sully's fingers. The cub pulled his foot up tight against his body again, but went still.

Looking at it, the splinter was red over half of its length. Possibly, the cub had been crawling and fallen onto the splinter in just the right way. Tossing the offending piece into the weeds, Sully held the tiny cub a minute in his lap. It closed its eyes and seemed to sleep from exhaustion. Sully sat there, waiting to hear approaching wolves, but he was alone.

Sully thought to himself, feeling a twisting in his gut. He'd been having the hardest time with the thought of killing, and it was one thing to kill a person, but it was another feeling entirely to have to entertain the thought of killing this baby wolf if it was too injured to make it. The fur was soft, and it's tiny nose and ears made it look like a toy. It watched Sully.

_ 'When the spirits say it is time, they will show you what you want to see.' _Cloud Dancing had told him days ago. Sully sat a while with the sleeping wolf cub in his lap, thinking of prayers and spirits and omens. By the time he had decided to keep the wolf for his own, the cub had awakened and they were both starving. Sully put his shirt back on, collected his new friend, and went off in search of a stream so they could both eat and drink. Unfortunately, he hadn't come across any water in his walk from that morning, so he started off down the hill, away from his camp of the night before, slowly becoming more and more lost in the process. Sully was too intent on finding the cub some food and water to really keep track of where he was going.

That afternoon, Cloud Dancing came upon the spent bank of coals that Sully had left from his quick shelter at the top of the ridge. Looking around and inspecting everything, he decided Sully had left early that morning, then found his trail that led West along the ridge. It worried him that the white man had traveled so far the day before, but it brought him comfort to see that he'd sheltered himself from the rain. The voices of the wolves had been heard in the camp by him and Snow Bird, and he hadn't been able to get anything accomplished that day until he tracked Sully down. Now, it looked like Sully was farther out than he'd be able to track in an afternoon safely.

Cloud Dancing, heaving a sigh and offering a prayer of protection up to the spirits, made sure the fire was out, then slowly walked back home. He would tell Black Kettle about what he had found and then depart tomorrow morning to find Sully. Perhaps, by morning, the white man would have found his own way back to his lean-to near their tents. More likely than not, the white man would get himself lost in the endless wilderness and require someone to help him find his way back. He was sure some members of the tribe would find this a sign that the white man was not meant to camp with them and should be left alone. But in the short amount of time they'd known each other, Cloud Dancing had come to see that Sully was a man who could provide him with great wisdom and friendship.

As Cloud Dancing passed Sully's lean-to that afternoon, a wolf howled in the distance and it gave the medicine man pause. Heaving another sigh, he walked on to the camp, to tell his chief the news.


	19. Chapter 19

A great sadness hung over the camp upon Cloud Dancing's return and drums beat an ominous rhythm which told him something bad had happened long before he came in sight of his tribe. One of the young braves who had not made his spirit quest yet waited for him at the edge of camp, earnestly dragging him to Black Kettle's camp as fast as he could. The young one spoke of Owl Through The Trees ascending to the spirits, and Cloud Dancing's heart grew heavy with the news. He had been the eldest in their tribe and was greatly loved by all. The winter had been a hard one for him, and he had needed Cloud Dancing's help many times recently, but had pulled through and found new strength as the spring had returned. Now the medicine man felt guilty that he had been away, searching for Black Wolf, when his fellow brother had needed him.

Black Kettle met him there as he stood listening to the drums, his face solemn.

"Owl Through The Trees has left us for the spirit world. There is much to do." The Chief said to Cloud Dancing. They stepped inside his tent to discuss what had happened. Cloud Dancing sighed and asked about details. "In the heat of the day, when all was quiet…that is when the Great Spirit called him. His wife has been waiting for you. I asked others to gather supplies." Black Kettle said.

Cloud Dancing nodded apologetically and the two talked about what would be needed for the ceremony. "I will go to her at once." Cloud Dancing said. "I should have been here."

"Cloud Dancing." Black Kettle called his medicine man back before he could walk away. "She is not angry with you. We understand you have much to do. As our eldest member, he must be given all the honor we can give. The spirits must know how we loved him." Black Kettle had a sad note in his voice. The shadows that fell on his face from the flames of the fire showed that it had been a long day for the Chief. He had often looked to Owl Through The Trees when considering tough decisions of how to lead the tribe. His wisdom would be greatly missed by all. Cloud Dancing nodded, the two shook, and he went directly to Owl Through The Trees family tent.

It was late when he returned to his own tent, and Snow Bird was waiting for him. She was glad to know that he had tended to his tribe upon returning. He ate heartily as she sat next to him by their fire, their son slept soundly off to the side.

"And Black Wolf?" She asked after a long silence. She'd known he had gone looking for the white man earlier in the day. After hearing of their tense discussion about listening for prayers, she had not been surprised that the white man had stormed off. Cloud Dancing was often a man who was hard to understand. Many found his wisdom of the spirits hard to follow, even though it was correct.

"I cannot find him. He built his fire high on the ridge, but was gone west by the time I got there." Cloud Dancing said quietly as he finished his meat. There was a bit of frustration in his voice. She, too, worried that the strange white man might get himself into trouble if he tried to do too much on his own. She had seen him when he had arrived, almost starved to death and heart sick. She knew her husband felt responsible for Black Wolf after saving him from the dark spirit that had haunted him. For whatever he had learned while being a warrior for the white war chief, living in the wilderness here was not something that came to anyone easily.

"You have much to do tomorrow. It will be fine." She said as she offered him more to eat. But Cloud Dancing shook his head at the food.

"Yes, much must be done to honor Owl Through The Trees as he begins his journey back to Mother Earth. I have no time to go search for Black Wolf tomorrow." He drank long from his cup, trying to hide his concern for where Sully might have ended up. She touched his shoulder to comfort him.

"I am sure he will return safe." Snow Bird said, beginning to unbraid her long hair. "It is good he is away, yes? Many would not feel that Black Wolf should see our sacred rituals to honor the dead." She tried to let her husband know that many in the tribe had spoken earlier of not wanting Black Wolf around to intrude on their mourning of Owl Through The Trees. But her husband did not answer her. He merely laid down to rest, his mind too full of what must be done in the morning.

Sully had managed to find a stream that afternoon after many turns and much searching. They both slaked their thirst from the cool stream and looked for food. He had lost perspective of how far he had walked as he had journeyed down the ridge. The overgrowth had hidden everything else from sight, so he did not go due South, as he had intended. The view from on top of the ridge where he'd built his fire the night before had provided him sight of the whole land, but now that he was far down the slope, he was lost.

Sully and the little wolf pup stopped at the base of a giant tree near the stream, and Sully was glad to sit awhile as the pup tried to explore. Sully hadn't gone that far in one day since his arrival, and he was tired out. He had been feeling stronger lately, but yet, the heat and the excitement of finding the pup had used up his energy for the day. After they were refreshed, Sully took to washing the sore hind paw until the dried blood was gone. He wondered if he should wrap it, but since he had nothing to use as a bandage, he left the paw to dry in the air. The little pup didn't squeal as badly at being looked at this time, and he hoped it was feeling better.

The stream was clear and deep, so he was able to find a few fish without too much trouble. Between building up a fire for the night and getting the fish, he was glad to lay down and sleep when darkness came. The pup was curious about where they had stopped for the night, but seemed too tired to care to wander any further than necessary. It still hobbled and limped and fell as it searched for a suitable bathroom spot, but Sully kept a close eye on it. That night, they slept against the tree, the little wolf cub pressed up against Sully's side for warmth and protection.

That morning, he woke stiff from not having even a blanket to cover himself with. The fire had gone out and the morning was cool, but there had been no sound of wolves to rouse him and remember to keep the fire going. He sat up, feeling that the pup was no longer at his side. Turning, he saw the pup getting a drink from the stream all on its own. When the little one saw that Sully was getting up, it barked and came back to him.

Wanting to get back to his lean-to and talk things over with Cloud Dancing, Sully scooped up the pup and began walking, following the stream. He figured that this would lead him to the far side of the Cheyenne camp. The pup was content to watch the scenery pass by as it was carried. Nothing looked familiar to Sully, and, strain as he might to hear familiar sounds of the Indians, he heard nothing more than the birds in the treetops.

Checking the paw mid-morning when they stopped at a thicket for some berries, he could tell the sore paw was well on its way to healing. The swelling had gone down and the puncture hole was no longer bleeding or even looking infected. More and more, the pup would test putting some pressure on its back foot as it tried walking. It was only for a minute or two, but it was a definite improvement. Sully thought that perhaps it had been a few days since it had gotten enough to eat, because it was not strong enough to fight its way in among its littermates to grab the best pieces of meat.

He stopped again a little after noon when he found a spot in the stream that was full of fish. He caught three and began making a fire so he could have a good meal to last him until he got back to the tribe. The little wolf pup played with the fish tails as Sully prepared the meal, and he found himself laughing at the little wolf's antics. When they left to keep walking, the pup fell asleep in Sully's arms.

In the afternoon, as the canopy overhead started to shadow everything around him, things about the stream started to look eerily familiar. At one point, he heard a horse, and stilled himself behind some undergrowth. He wasn't sure where he was, exactly, and wanted to see if the person could help him figure out where he was. As the horse came into view, the blonde rider stopped to let the horse drink, but didn't dismount. From Sully's vantage point, it was easy to see it was Hank Lawson, from town. No wonder this part of the stream started to look familiar! He was on the far side of Colorado Springs.

Hank didn't let the horse stop long, and he looked like he had ridden all day and night. After only a minute or two, he spurned the horse on, heading towards the hills where Sully had just come from. It had been years since he'd seen Hank, and that was back when Hank had just come into town. His hair was now three times longer than it had been, but that hard face was always the same. He felt his own hair, wondering if he could ever stand for it to grow that long himself. Waiting a good couple of minutes to be sure Hank was gone, he finally got up and began the walk back in the correct direction to the Cheyenne camp.

Sully's mind was on how Cloud Dancing might react to the wolf pup when he neared camp. Fires burned at every corner of the camp, and drums had beat steadily as if to almost lead him back. When he was only a few feet away from the treeline, he stopped. Without Cloud Dancing there to explain things, Sully had no idea what was going on in the tribe. Some were in the center of the camp, but nobody was dancing. Sully could smell strange smoke that reminded him of the fire that Cloud Dancing had burned in the healing circle when they had first met. Cloud Dancing had put healing herbs and things into the fire to burn as an offering to the spirits. If he was doing that again in all these fires around the camp, then something must have happened.

The wolf pup stirred, wanting for Sully to put it down. He had to wonder if they somehow knew the bad omen of the wolf that Sully was bringing back to camp. Was that why they were burning herbs in the fires? Was the medicine man asking for protection? After deserting the army, they had known Sully was coming towards them a long time before he had stumbled across Cloud Dancing's path. Did they know he was bringing a bad omen back now, too?

Sully slipped back through the trees and went to his lean-to without getting close enough for anyone to see him. He avoided their fires and didn't go to see Cloud Dancing. He figured that maybe he should wait for one of them to come to him, and then he might find out what was going on. If they were performing some secret ceremony, they might not want him to interfere. Sully also thought about how important it had been not to cross the sacred circle before the medicine man's prayers had been finished. He did not want to break any circles and bring bad luck to the Cheyenne.

The lean-to was a welcome sight. A pack made of animal hide sat on top of his blankets as he sat the pup down to let it investigate its new home. When Sully opened it, he saw dried meat and bread inside and figured it was from Snow Bird. He realized she and Cloud Dancing must have been worried about him. He gladly shared the meal with the wolf pup and laid down, thoroughly exhausted from his excursion. The pup wrestled with the dried meat awhile, content to be up against Sully's side in the darkness. Sully had thought about a fire, but not only was the moon coming out, but the night was warm. He also thought that maybe he would not announce his presence immediately to the tribe by lighting a fire.

Despite his worry, in the comfort of the blankets and the steady beating of the drums, he was quickly asleep.


	20. Chapter 20

Afraid to wait any longer, Cloud Dancing prepared that next morning to travel back to the ridge and search for Sully. The ceremony for Owl Through The Trees had been a day long affair, but the tribe had needed the time to say goodbye to their beloved elder. The fires had burned late into the night, and he had slept deeply. Now, he packed some food, slung the pack over his shoulder, and headed out of camp.

Walking towards the direction of Sully's lean-to, Cloud Dancing saw a rustle in the brush that he thought could be a rabbit. Stopping to watch and see what sort of animal it was, he was frozen into place when out of the weeds emerged a wolf cub. It paid him no notice as it walked directly to the lean-to. Feeling this was a sign, the medicine man followed quietly. He wanted to sneak up on the animal if he could to see its real intention.

Sully laid in the lean-to, sleeping on his side as the wolf cub approached him. Sitting near his face, the small cub watched him for a minute, then began licking Sully's chin. This immediately roused him from sleep, and his hand came up to gently pet the wolf cub as he sat up. Cloud Dancing was amazed and concerned. Not long ago, Sully had told him of his thoughts on wolves, and now here he has returned with a ransomed wolf cub! Cloud Dancing could hardly believe it.

Cloud Dancing stepped into view as Sully stretched. The friendly greeting that Cloud Dancing had wanted to give was stuck in his throat at the ominous sight of the wolf cub tugging at Sully's pantleg. Grabbing a small stick for the cub to chew, Sully stood and approached his friend. Holding out his hand, they shook silently.

"I searched for you on the Ridge, but you left your fire early." Cloud Dancing said. He dropped his pack on the ground. Sully nodded.

"Thank you. I guess I didn't realize how far I had walked the other day." He admitted. "Followed a stream that led me all the way to the far side of town, then I came back." It took a second for Cloud Dancing to realize what stream Sully was talking about, then he raised his eyebrows.

"That is a long walk." Cloud Dancing admitted, then pointed to the lean-to. "Is that where this one comes from?" Sully turned to look at the wolf cub, who was wrestling with the stick like it was a ferocious animal.

"No, I found him. There was a dead deer high on the ridge, he was beside it, and his foot had a big splinter in it. The pack left him behind…guess he couldn't keep up anymore." Sully explained. As Cloud Dancing heard the story, he thought of his dreams of the injured black wolf. This pup was not black, but the connection to his long ago dream was eerie.

"The mother might be out hunting to bring it food." Cloud Dancing countered.

"We didn't get far the day I found him. She could'a tracked me easy." Sully said. "We only saw fish in the stream the whole way back." The danger of separating a mother from her baby was a serious one, regardless of the type of animal. But if Sully had been traveling with the pup and not seen or heard any sign of a wolf looking for the little one, it very well could have been abandoned.

"What will you do?" The medicine man asked. He couldn't get over the sight of such an omen playing innocently in the white man's place. Surely his people would see this as a bad sign and fear the white man.

"Back East, I seen plenty men who had dogs. Figure that…with those dreams you had of me before…that I was supposed ta come across this one and help it." Sully gathered up the pup in his hand and brought it over so Cloud Dancing could see him up close. "Once I got the splinter out and washed his foot, it's been looking alright. Don't think he'll be lame." Cloud Dancing backed away a step from Sully as he held the pup out to him. The respect he had for wolves included not touching one unless it was dead. The pup squirmed in Sully's hand and panted, looking almost as if it were trying to smile at the Indian.

"The wolf is a hunter. You cannot keep it around. It will only come to grow into a hunter." Cloud Dancing said, his voice low.

"It can't be more than a few weeks old, how much could the mother have taught it? I couldn't just leave him there, he'd have been killed for sure!" Sully said, setting the pup back on the ground.

"Wolves are born to hunt. You cannot change what is inside." Cloud Dancing said. He had to convince Sully that this was a dangerous animal to keep around the tribe, and that he had to get rid of it. If the others found out, they would come and kill the pup for sure. Sully had to be the one to kill it before someone else did it for him. He had to see it was the only way to keep everyone safe.

"I seen all kinda dogs that hunted, and men had trained them to only hunt small animals. It had never seen a person before to know to attack me. This one walked up to me just looking for help." Sully felt himself trying to talk Cloud Dancing into seeing that this was a harmless baby that wasn't able to hurt anyone. It was just now beginning to walk a bit normally, hardly limping from the splinter that had bothered it so recently. Surely Cloud Dancing could see that Sully's killing days were over and all he had wanted to do was reach out and help the poor pup the way the Cheyenne had helped him.

"The tribe will not understand." Cloud Dancing said, looking to explain, but Sully cut him off.

"Then I'll make them understand." And he picked up the pup and walked off towards camp.

The Chief was leaving his tent as Sully entered camp. He took a few running steps to catch up to Black Kettle, to cut him off before he reached his destination. The pup in Sully's arm kept silent, content to watch the action going on.

"Wait." Sully said to the Chief, holding up his free hand. Black Kettle stopped in his tracks, surprised at Black Wolf's sudden arrival. As the two looked at each other, Sully realized he couldn't communicate with Black Kettle without Cloud Dancing, who was still a few paces behind. Sully pointed behind him, and Black Kettle turned to see his medicine man approaching with a dark look on his face. He stopped, realizing Black Wolf needed to say something to him. As he turned back to nod in understanding, he finally saw the tiny wolf pup tucked up under Black Wolf's arm. He tried to mask the alarm in his eyes, calling to Cloud Dancing.

"What is this?" The Chief asked.

"Black Wolf has found a wolf." Cloud Dancing explained, meeting the two there in the center of camp. "He feels it should live with him." Sully watched this brief exchange of the Cheyenne language, unable to understand, but hoping that Cloud Dancing would faithfully translate what Sully wanted to say to Black Kettle. If he could just show Black Kettle that the wolf meant no harm, he hoped to make the Chief understand that it would be alright if Sully kept it.

"Please…tell him that I have been thinking long of the…" Sully sighed, frustrated. He had never had to express thoughts like this to anyone. He hoped that Cloud Dancing would understand his words. "…of the beautiful side of hunters. Like bears, like the one I saw. Nahqui." Sully said, trying the new Cheyenne word. Black Kettle looked quickly back and forth from Black Wolf to Cloud Dancing. "Tell him I don't believe this baby to be…any harm." Sully looked down at the wolf cub as Cloud Dancing translated his words for the Chief. The pup looked up at him and pawed at the air until Sully took his little paw in his hand. He imagined that the pup was trying to tell him it was going to be alright. The Chief made a hand gesture to his medicine man in reply, asking if the pup was stolen.

"The pack left it behind, the paw was injured. It was alone." Cloud Dancing said.

"Tell him that it had a splinter in his paw." Sully turned the pup over in his arm, pointing to the back paw. "I got the splinter out and cleaned it so it could walk again." He looked into the Chief's eyes as he spoke, and waited for Cloud Dancing to repeat what he had said. Black Kettle never took his eyes off of the wolf, amazed at how gently it rested in Black Wolf's grasp, how it trusted him to not drop it or harm it. He had seen wolf dens before, but never had seen a pup up close, so calm.

"It seems he feels responsible for it." Cloud Dancing continued. "I told him of the hunter inside this animal, that the tribe will not understand him living with a danger so close. He would not listen." Black Kettle noticed that several of the tribe's members had gathered as the exchange had gone on. They whispered among themselves, pointing in wonder at Black Wolf and his wolf cub. He knew that the tribe always kept a respectful distance from wolves, but that this white man did not follow strict Cheyenne teachings. He did not know of the terror a pack of wolves could bring down on an unsuspecting person. He had not been raised to fear the sight of a wolf, or to regard them as terribly magnificent hunters. All this white man had known was pain, and he saw another of the Great Mother's creatures in pain, and had brought it comfort, had shown it safety.

Black Kettle slowly raised his hand and reached out a finger towards the pup. If it bit him, he would have to have it sent away somehow. But if it were gentle to him, he would consider it a sign from the spirits that this wolf could be different. If Black Kettle could see that this white man had more in his heart than just killing Indians, perhaps his spirit could reach this wolf and help it to grow to be more than just a killer, as well.

The pup saw Black Kettle's finger and panted. Sully held the pup very still in his arm, hoping that it didn't bite or scratch the Chief in front of everyone. If it hurt him in any way, the whole tribe would force him to get rid of it. Sully prayed, _'Please don't bite him.'_

To everyone's amazement, the hushed tribe watched the small abandoned wolf pup lick the Chief's finger. Black Kettle held still, feeling the tribe members press closer, and the pup licked and licked at his finger happily. No claws scratched him, no teeth took hold of his skin, and Black Kettle let slip a small smile, just for a second, then spoke.

"The Great Spirit sends Black Wolf a friend. The medicine man saw visions of Black Wolf being injured, and Black Wolf found this one injured. The two are linked spirits. We honor our wolf brother and the Great Spirit in this." And everyone solemnly agreed. Some murmured that Owl Through The Trees had sent this as a sign, that a friendly wolf pup had to be magic. Many found a great respect for Sully that day in his ability to tame the wild wolf. But this was not translated to Sully by Cloud Dancing.

"_Ho'nehe_." Black Kettle said, pointing to the wolf and looking at Black Wolf. "_Ho'nehe_."

"That is our word for wolf." Cloud Dancing explained. Sully practiced the word and nodded to Black Kettle. He stuck out his finger and let the wolf pup lick it again, then he smiled. In his heart, he felt a little better at the sight, smiling at the thought that this white man had power to change the hearts of animals, not just himself.

Sully stuck out his hand and shook with the mighty Chief, bowing and thanking him over and over. Walking back to his lean-to, many continued to talk of Black Wolf working magic on the ridge to make the pup friendly. Cloud Dancing went back to his tent to tell Snow Bird all that he was still finding hard to believe.

Cloud Dancing returned later for his pack, which Sully had set back in his lean-to so the wolf pup would not disturb it. He had just finished gathering wood that afternoon when Cloud Dancing came.

"I made sure ta keep your pack up outta his way." Sully said, bringing it out. Cloud Dancing thanked him but held up his hands.

"I had brought it to share if I found you on the ridge. We share it now." He sat and helped build up the fire. Sully took out the food, giving a portion of his share to the small wolf pup, who was more than happy to begin eating.

"Thank you for helping me talk to Black Kettle today." Sully said. "I hope you can understand I just wanted ya to see that this little one can be different than his mother." Cloud Dancing nodded as he ate his bread. "Just like I can be different from the white men that are fighting your people." A long silence stretched out between them as they ate their meal together, enjoying the afternoon and the pup's antics. Finally, Cloud Dancing pointed to the cub as he wandered into the weeds to relieve himself.

"He needs a name." He said to Sully.

"Not much for names." Sully admitted, refilling his cup.

"He would not be suited for a white man name." Cloud Dancing said, wishing to bestow a name on the wolf fitting for the amazing sign he had shown the tribe.

"Wolf will be fine." Sully said.

"Ho'nehe?" Cloud Dancing asked.

"No, the English word. Just Wolf." They watched in silence as the pup came back, barely limping now, and contented itself to lay down and rest.

"He will grow." Cloud Dancing said. "Many will not understand you." Sully just shook his head at the thought. It had been so long since he had cared what others had thought of him. He ran a hand through his hair, which was growing more unruly by the day. It seemed that nobody had cared to understand him since the day Abigail passed away. Cloud Dancing had finally been the first man to dare try to understand him now, and that was enough for Sully.

The pup sighed in its sleep and kicked a paw as it began to dream.

"He will understand me." Sully said prophetically.


	21. Chapter 21

_ For lieutenant sniper Byron Sully, life without his beloved Abigail was unbearable. Loosing her in childbirth had sent him to the front lines, hopefully to be killed in battle. But after killing an innocent man per the twisted machinations of the War Department, our guilt torn Sully abandoned his post to return to his wife's grave and end his own life. A perilous journey finds him at the point of destruction when he falls into the world of the Cheyenne of Colorado, and under the wing of their medicine man, Cloud Dancing, Sully begins to put his life back together again. With the chance to heal his mind and heart, Sully takes on the teachings of the Cheyenne people as his own, and tries to leave the white man's world behind._

The morning broke over the mountains cool and clear. As the late sun was climbing, Sully woke to find Wolf against his side exactly where he had been the night before when they had both fallen asleep. The pup's head was up and he was looking around, but he would not leave the warm protection of Sully's hand. Sully laid there quietly, smiling as he watched the pup take in the dawning of a new day. The air was quiet, hardly anyone was making any noise in the nearby camp, and even the trees were fairly still.

It occurred to Sully that, for the first time that he could remember, he woke up smiling. He could hardly believe the feeling. What power the growing pup had to bring him a bit of healing! And as he took in the warm fur beneath his fingertips and the contentedness of being safe and warm, Sully sent up a very short, small prayer of thank you that a day could possibly begin so simply.

Unable to resist any longer, he began petting Wolf, who instantly turned to look up at Sully and gave a small yip of greeting. As Sully scratched Wolf's back in earnest, the pup slowly stood and stretched, leaning its head back to enjoy the attention. Sully's smile continued and soon they were both gently playing inside the lean-to. Wolf tried to wrestle Sully's hand, playfully nipping at his fingers in an effort to avoid being tickled. Sully tried to tickle Wolf's belly before getting nipped. After a few minutes, the pup stopped and walked off to relieve himself, so Sully sat up to start his day. The two had already built a camaraderie that would soon blossom into a deeply devoted friendship.

As Sully walked with Wolf down the stream to wash, it occurred to him that he'd prayed that morning. Watching the pup take a drink, he realized that Cloud Dancing hadn't been talking about literal voices from the Great Spirit the day they'd gone into the woods to meditate. The medicine man had meant that everything has its own way of speaking to one's soul and that a person must be open to any way that the Spirits might use to communicate with man. He had gotten frustrated that day because he hadn't heard any literal noises except the woods around him, the breeze, and the birds. Sully had been thinking about it all wrong. He should have been thinking about how the outside world was speaking to his heart.

"C'mon, boy!" He called to Wolf, who looked up at him a bit surprised. "Let's go." And the pup contentedly followed, sure they were on their way to scrounge up some breakfast.

Sully walked into camp and over to Cloud Dancing's tent before Snow Bird had even finished with the morning meal. He poked his head into the tent to ask if he could talk to Cloud Dancing. They warmly greeted each other, and Sully was asked to join the meal with them. He and Wolf came in, and the pup obediently sat next to Sully, hungrily awaiting his turn to eat.

"Before I got upset that day in the woods, you were tryin' ta tell me about listening when praying." Sully started. Cloud Dancing's eyes sparkled as his ears perked up. He had been saddened that Sully had stormed off that day before figuring out what he'd been trying to teach him. Their conversation had been good since then, but Cloud Dancing had been reticent in trying to teach more before Sully showed him that he was truly ready.

"You didn't mean I should be listening for just sounds, though. Right?" Sully asked. Snow Bird sat back and watched the two. She didn't know all the English words the white man was using, but she could see her husband's interest in his eyes, and she knew it was important. Cloud Dancing took a moment to explain to her what Sully was saying before he answered. She appreciated being included in the conversation, since her husband had been so devoted to the white man since they'd met. It was still amazing to her to see the white man now. His face was completely changed from when she had first seen him in the woods. He was getting stronger and healthier the longer he stayed away from the great white war chief in the East. His hair was now beginning to curl around his shoulders.

"The spirits speak in all different ways. I used your word speak when I should use another." Cloud Dancing said, searching for another way to explain his teaching. "Even without a voice such as you have, everything from the Great Spirit can teach us things." Sully smiled and looked down at Wolf.

"Wolf was right next to me all night. Waited until I woke up before he would get up at all." Sully explained. He tried to gesture with his hand to explain how that had felt, and all he could do was thump his chest and clutch at his shirt. Cloud Dancing leaned forward a bit, recognizing the gesture as the same that Sully had used when Black Kettle first asked him if the healing circle had brought him peace. Sully had put his hand over his heart then, emotion filling his eyes. Now his hand settled over his heart again, but the look was a much happier one.

"That is good." Cloud Dancing said, hiding his amazement.

"It made me…happy." Sully said, feeling foolish in admitting such a thing. His words made him seem like a schoolboy with a new toy. His hand reached unconsciously for the pup's head, and he scratched it. "I woke up happy."

The two grinned at each other, and Snow Bird grinned at both of them. From his smile and his gesture, she knew that Sully was happy even before Cloud Dancing told her of his words. Seeing the difference in the white man's eyes made him look totally different to her.

"Then it is a good day." Cloud Dancing proclaimed.

"Isn't that a bit like the spirits speaking to me?" Sully asked, hoping he got it right finally. "Could that have been the spirits telling me that everything was alright?" Cloud Dancing stood at this, and Sully stood up with him.

"It is good." Cloud Dancing emphasized. "You are…learning."

Word reached camp a few days later from a dog soldier scout that Hook Nose was coming back from a campaign against the white man. The news came to Bright Spears, who was determined to become a part of Hook Nose's band of rebel fighters. When the leader heard of Bright Spears triumph with the large buffalo, he would be included finally as a great warrior. He would defend his people's sacred grounds and drive the white man off from their planes forever.

But as he worked that next day to prepare his weapons, the new tomahawk made the young brave think only of the crazy white man, Black Wolf. He had given his best tomahawk to the white man in thanks for giving him his life. All the favor that the spirits had given the weapon rested in the white man's lean-to, being wasted. The crazy white man didn't even know how to throw it, let alone dare use it. All he seemed to care about these days was his wolf cub. It was clear to Bright Spears that the white man was growing the cub to be a great wolf so that he could use it to harm the tribe members. Only a few of Bright Spears friends believed this plan, but he was sure that Hook Nose would agree also. He thought of the possibility of Hook Nose helping him eliminate Black Wolf from the tribe.

But what dog soldier leader would need a warrior if that warrior needed help cleansing his tribe of one white man? What warrior allowed such a white man to infiltrate his tribe in the first place?

Bright Spears was going to have to get rid of Black Wolf all by himself. He could see the buffalo would not be enough to impress Hook Nose now. Only the scalp of the white man would prove he was the greatest warrior in Black Kettle's tribe.

That evening, Bright Spears was well out of sight of Black Wolf's lean-to when he and his wolf cub returned. The cub was growing and was already twice the size it had been when the crazy white man had first brought it into their camp. It settled down near the fire as Black Wolf brought the coals of his fire back to burning again. Bright Spears silently crept around the edge of the clearing as Black Wolf slipped off to sleep. He studied the area for the best direction to attack from.

When Bright Spears stepped out of the edge of the clearing, quieter than an owl on the wing, the wolf cub lifted its head and quickly looked about. It started to growl, which quickly made Bright Spears retreat back into the shadows of the trees. The fire was low, but the wolf's growling persisted enough that Black Wolf awoke and looked around as well. It was clear to Bright Spears that he had not anticipated the wolf cub enough. He would have to figure out a way to get the two separated before he could be sure to sneak up on Black Wolf and kill him.

Slipping back through the night, Bright Spears toyed with the idea of merely taking a bow and shooting the wolf cub dead from a safe perch in a tree nearby. But the thought of the cub being used to being around people gave his warrior's heart a jealous pang. Who was Black Wolf that he could talk to the wolves? He was not Cheyenne, he had been a soldier of all things! What did the white man know of speaking to the animals? If anyone should know the power of the forest creatures, it should be his native people. It should be him. This was his land by birthright, and the Great Spirit had entrusted the whole of the creation to the people.

As Bright Spears lay down in his tent, he decided a fate worse than an arrow for Wolf and Sully…


	22. Chapter 22

That next morning, as Cloud Dancing and Snow Bird walked the creek together, the silence was heavy between them. The summer was winding down, and soon, a chill would be upon the morning to signal the coming of the cold from high on the mountain. The frogs chirped happily in the water as the two walked side by side, but soon the only sound would be of the birds changing course and the leaves falling. She tried not to let her worry of enough skins for the coming cold interrupt her enjoyment of the walk with her husband. Such was the mind of a wife that had days and nights full of duties to keep her family safe and warm.

The children had left them alone after the morning meal, and Snow Bird merely thought that her husband had a lot of prayer occupying his morning thoughts. But he had insisted she come with him. She was overly concerned with the news from Little Flower that the dog soldiers were coming back to their camp, but was afraid to bring it up to Cloud Dancing. Hook Nose was wild and had always hated the white man with a passion. He put the band of rebels together to drive the white man out of their land. But he also burned white men's houses and killed the young children, much to the dislike of Black Kettle. The chief believed in defending their land, and he understood the horrors of war, but the warriors lack of discretion in killing and destroying everything without trying to reach any peace disgusted Black Kettle. Snow Bird never enjoyed the dog soldiers being around because they stirred up the hearts of the young to thinking they could single-handedly drive the white men away. Many times they brought back fire water from the white man's towns that made all who drank it sick with staggering. She worried her son would leave their tent and loose his life against the more powerful weapons of the white man.

"You pray very hard this morning." Cloud Dancing said as he walked beside her, taking her out of her thoughts. "Perhaps it was I who should have let you walk alone?" She smiled down at the ground.

"I should be praying, but I worry instead." She admitted. "I have a lot on my mind." Her husband took her hand and stopped her beside the stream's edge.

"What worries you?" He asked, his eyes searching her face. She studied the stitching of his sleeve instead. He had many to care for in the tribe, many things to prepare for as the seasons changed, and she hated to bother him with her every little thought. Such a strong medicine man needed a strong wife to carry her fair share during their walk through life together. But this worry weighed too heavy on her mind to bear the load all by herself.

"Hook Nose is coming." She said low. "He always brings trouble." As Snow Bird looked up, Cloud Dancing nodded solemnly at her. He had heard the news from Black Kettle himself, and had been concerned that the dog soldiers might winter with their tribe. It was late in the season and they might not travel fast enough to reach the Northern Cheyenne in time before the cold returned. If they stayed, they not only spread their rowdiness among the tents, but also caught the eye of the white man's army. Hook Nose had won many enemies as he and his band ravaged the countryside.

"Yes, I have heard this news. But our son is still a year from his vision quest. He will not leave you for Hook Nose's wild stories." Cloud Dancing tried to reassure her. Their native language was easy between them, and he hoped his words could bring her comfort.

"But he can fill the young ones heads with talk of killing the white man. They will show the treasures they have taken off of the dead." Snow Bird shook her head. Cloud Dancing said nothing to this. He knew his chief did not respect the methods the dog soldiers used, but in offering, the dog soldiers always brought food and protection to the tribe. As the hunting grounds became disputed territory, the dog soldiers became more and more of a necessary evil.

"They ride over the hill, dressed in soldiers uniforms…" Snow Bird stopped herself before saying more. The thought was upsetting her, and she didn't want her husband to think she was afraid. But as the words left her and hung on the air between them, Cloud Dancing drew her into a thoughtful embrace. He loved her for her courage, especially when he could tell that she was feeling concerned. They stood there a moment, silent in each other's arms. At the mention of soldiers uniforms came a thought of Sully, of the soldiers pack that still remained in his lean-to just outside the camp. Cloud Dancing had known of the news for a few days now, but hadn't thought that Sully could be very much in danger.

He started walking, and his wife followed in silence.

Of those who had heard Black Kettle offer peace to Sully, Hook Nose was not one of them.

When Cloud Dancing was able to meet with Sully later, he found him with Wolf, preparing some fish to eat. Wolf was enjoying one raw, the ends held fast under his growing paws. Sully was working his fire to cook the rest for himself. He greeted the medicine man happily and asked him to share the fish.

"Thank you, but I come to speak of danger." Cloud Dancing said, sitting next to the fire. "Dog soldiers are coming. It is no longer safe for you here." Sully forgot the flames and sat down, confused.

"Do you know what regiment?" He asked. Cloud Dancing shook his head.

"A band of our rebel brothers have become dog soldiers. They roam our lands and drive out the white man who tries to settle on our hunting grounds. Their leader is Hook Nose. He is a great warrior who has killed many men." Cloud Dancing felt unsettled. He knew he was giving Sully information that Hook Nose would not want any white man to have, but Cloud Dancing knew that Sully would not use this knowledge to hurt the tribe. He had lost his desire to fight anyone and simply wanted to dwell in peace. But Sully's simple wish was something that the dog soldiers would not allow.

"He's killed many _white_ men, ya mean." Sully said, turning to look at Wolf. The animal looked up at him, almost smiling in an innocent way.

"If you stay, they will kill you. Black Kettle's offer of peace will not…be accepted by them." Cloud Dancing hoped that Sully understood the importance of his words.

"Why would their chief lie to them about me?" Sully asked, feeling hurt that he was being outcast without being given a chance to explain himself to these unseen warriors.

"The chief does not lie. You _are_ a white man. Dog soldiers do not let the white man on our land." The medicine man's words hit Sully hard.

"Even the one who lives past Cash creek?" Sully asked.

"He is crazy, lives with a squaw, but is not on our land." Cloud Dancing pointed to the lean-to. "But you are." Sully stood suddenly, all thought of his delicious meal gone now. He looked around. This corner of the woods had just started to feel familiar to him, like a new home, and now he was being told he would have to leave for fear of his life. He turned around.

"They won't even listen to you?" Sully asked. His friend stood, his eyes very serious. The medicne man's voice took on a desparate tone. The look in his brown eyes was serious.

"You are a white man. Dog soldiers kill the white man. Hook Nose does not believe any white man. He will not speak to you. Will never be at peace with you here." Cloud Dancing sighed as Sully kicked at one of Wolf's sticks. "I am sorry, friend, but you must go. It is better if you leave." This sudden change of events in the midst of what had been a calm and relaxing day was infuriating to Sully. He sat back down and worked on furiously cleaning the fish before he simply threw the whole pan in anger. Cloud Dancing sat back down and watched him a moment.

"Better not waste this." Sully stated. The two sat together, not enjoying the circumstances that were tearing them apart before they truly got to know one another. Cloud Dancing was worried that Sully's anger would cause him to storm off before being properly prepared.

"I will gather food to last you and return." With that, the medicine man left Sully, who watched his fish cook while he wondered where he could possibly go now. Wolf came over to lick Sully's hand, as if saying thank you for the fish he'd just polished off. Sully patted Wolf's head and stared into those canine eyes that trusted him so much. He thought of Cloud Dancing's words about keeping the pup from just a few weeks ago. _'Many will not understand you.'_ He had said. Would he be able to find himself shelter this time, like he had found with the Botkins? What if the people he encountered refused to help because they were afraid of Wolf?

As if in answer, Wolf yipped happily, trying to engage Sully in some play, but Sully ignored him. He did not want to think about what must be done. He wanted to be selfish and figure out a way to stay, to establish this new life that he wanted so very badly. But, deep in his heart, he knew that Wolf would have to return to his pack, somehow. Sully had to return, as well. The thought was devastating.

Bright Spears had told his friends that he was going off for a few days to see if he could bring in an impressive kill to show to Hook Nose. All the young braves entertained thoughts of joining the band of dog soldiers, but Bright Spears wanted to be noticed by Hook Nose more than the rest. They had all suggested going out and killing another buffalo, but Bright Spears didn't want any company on this trip. He told them it would mean more if he brought down a bear on his own, then swore them to secrecy. He wanted the blood of the menacing creature to color his new blade with its power. They all thought this was a risky idea, but agreed not to breathe a word to anyone.

Well hidden from sight, Bright Spears had listened intently to the conversation Black Wolf had with Cloud Dancing. He was far enough away that it had been difficult to hear, but Cloud Dancing was instructing Black Wolf that he had to leave the camp. English words often eluded him, but he knew a few, and of course, he could recognize Hook Noses name in any language. If it was talk of the dog soldiers, Cloud Dancing must be urging him to hide himself and keep safely away from the tribe. Bright Spears liked this plan, because when he took the white man by surprise, far away from the tribe, there would be no-one around to hear.

Thinking of where his medicine man might urge Black Wolf to go, Bright Spears thought of a well used white man trail. He would wait close to Black Wolf's camp to be sure, then follow him a day or two before killing him. Then, he figured he would spend some time with the wolf pup and befriend it with tasty treats he had packed.

When he returned, Hook Nose would welcome Bright Spear as one who had successfully eliminated the white mans threat from the tribe, and harnessed the power of the wolf for his very own.


	23. Chapter 23

Cloud Dancing returned to his tent in a hurry. Snow Bird and Small One were working on preparing some hides to tan when he approached. She could see from the way he hurried that her husband had not had a good talk with the white man, Black Wolf. The fringe of the buckskin he wore rippled back in waves as he breezed past the other tents. The feather in his hair sailed back from his raven black hair like a flag. He had told her he wanted to make sure that Black Wolf was safe before the dog soldiers returned. Perhaps the white man was gone already, on one of his strange hikes that lasted many days. She dropped her hide and stood. Small One, her hands still wet with brains from preparing the hide in her lap, listened from the ground.

"The spirits hurry you." Snow Bird said, concerned.

"Yes." Cloud Dancing answered. "I will need your help to fill a pack with some food for Black Wolf. I have convinced him that he will be safe if he does not stay." His tone was calm, but she could see in her husband's eyes that he was upset. He had been enjoying his talks with this white man they still referred to as Black Wolf. She knew that leaving was the last thing her husband wanted.

"He will be safe. The spirits will help you tell him the way." Snow Bird said as she ducked inside to gather some food. Cloud Dancing followed. He wanted to look for one of the necklaces he had been working on. There was time to help Black Wolf get the feel for using Bright Spear's tomahawk, pray over him and Wolf, and send them on their way before dark. He finally laid a hand on the necklace he wanted and hoped that Black Wolf would not refuse it. He had made it from very fine beads, and had blessed it under the previous moon. The spirits had told him it would be powerful, so he had laid it away, hoping he would never need it. Now he realized he had not made it for himself in time of trouble, but for his new friend as protection.

As he walked out to tell Black Kettle this latest news, Small One had vanished from the pile of hides and was all the way across camp at her own tent. She called to her medicine man, waving a hand to him. He paused, then changed course, hoping she had not suddenly taken ill.

Her granddaughter, Soaring Winds, was just coming out with an armful of blankets when he reached them. Small One apologized for delaying him.

"Are you well?" He asked her. She had been with the tribe since his own father had been a medicine man. Her eyes danced as she nodded, bobbing her gray braids.

"Black Wolf leaves?" She asked. Cloud Dancing was confused. Hadn't she just heard him tell Snow Bird this very thing?

"It will be safe if he journeys out of Hook Nose's path, yes." He told her. Soaring Winds held out the blankets to him.

"He will need this." She said. "It will not hide him, but it is the best weaving we have done this season." As her granddaughter held up the bundle, the blanket unfurled to be a coat of red and black. Some of the elder tribe members wore these during the winter. Clearly, Small One had most likely been working on it for Owl Through The Trees. But with his passing, they had cut away the red and added black to make it longer for a taller man, such as Sully. Cloud Dancing, in a rush, thanked her very much, rolled up the coat, and hurried on to Black Kettle. It was one of the first signs the other tribe members had given him that they could come to accept a white man among them.

When Cloud Dancing returned to Sully's lean-to, Sully had everything packed that he had chosen to take with him. The army pack leaned against a tree and Sully stood at the treeline, watching Wolf hunt a squirrel. Cloud Dancing set down the pack of food, the coat from Small One, but took the necklace over to where Sully stood.

"I know I haven't been here long, but it feels like I'm bein' forced outta my home." Sully said in a low voice. Without answering, Cloud Dancing held out the necklace to him. Hesitating, Sully slowly took hold of the necklace. It was a single strand of beads, alternating red, black, and white. He marveled at their smoothness, and how well such tiny beads had been carved, all by hand.

"This will be a sign to the spirits to protect you on your journey." Cloud Dancing said. Slipping the beads over his head, Sully looked past his friend to see all that he had brought. It was strange to wear a necklace, when he'd only ever seen women wear such things. But, among the Cheyenne, jewelry was worn by both men and women, and it made him feel a little more accepted. Forgetting Wolf for a moment, he thanked Cloud Dancing greatly for the gift, then asked what all the rest was for.

"Snow Bird helped prepare food to take with you. Small One has sent a coat." Cloud Dancing handed the red and black coat to Sully, who stood a very long minute as he looked at it. It amazed him how much meaning the Cheyenne were putting into everything they made. It really took him aback to see the pattern and think of all it would remind him of as he traveled. It was big enough to roll up as a pillow on warm nights, and had a hood to use during the winter.

"Small One simply wanted you—" Cloud Dancing struggled to explain the coat to his friend, seeing that Sully's eyes had misted over a bit. Sully cut off the medicine man's words.

"Two black stripes for Black Wolf." Sully put the coat on, although it was still too warm in the afternoon to need it. "One for Hannah, and one for Abigail." Cloud Dancing looked at the coat with new eyes. In his haste, it had never occurred to him that Small One had woven it with any meaning related to Sully's wife and child. But there was the stripe across his shoulders and across his hips, the same as the two arrows he had seen in his vision that had pierced the side of the black wolf. What he had missed, the spirits had shown to Sully.

"I did not…see." Cloud Dancing said. Sully held his hand out, and the two shook, forearm to forearm, as the Cheyenne did.

"Tell Small One…thank you." Sully said sincerely.

"Where do you have Bright Spear's tomahawk? You should keep it close as you travel." Cloud Dancing asked. Sully dug it out of the bottom of his army pack. The medicine man checked it then threw it quickly at a nearby tree, hitting the trunk dead center.

"This can be used for chopping, but also to protect your steps. Bright Spear is a skilled warrior. It will…honor you…with its power." Sully hadn't thought of it as a self-defense weapon, until now. He retrieved it from the tree trunk and walked back to Cloud Dancing. The thought of using it against another person sickened him, but to protect him and Wolf from a wild animal was different. The Indian threw the tomahawk again, and tried to explain aiming, but he had some trouble. When Sully again stood next to Cloud Dancing, he tried to throw it, but without being used to the heft of the blade, it landed in the grass far in front of the tree. Cloud Dancing picked up the tomahawk and again showed Sully how to throw. But the next few attempts were no better.

"Cloud Dancing, this just ain't workin'. Besides, I've decided to head towards—"

"Sully, you may not fear man. You may…desire peace. You need to protect yourself….so you may return…safe." Cloud Dancing pushed the tomahawk back into Sully's hand. "Try again." Sully studied the medicine man's face a moment.

"My safe return?" He asked.

"The dog soldiers will only stay until the white man attacks again. They will move on." Cloud Dancing spoke this as if it had already been common knowledge between the two men.

"You made it sound like I had to leave and that…I couldn't live here anymore." Sully said. Wolf walked back to the two men and looked at them in turn. The squirrel had eluded him for now, but he sat, happily panting and watching the exchange. Sully bent down to pet Wolf.

"I was tryin' ta think of somewhere that Wolf could go…" Sully stopped his thought. Cloud Dancing squatted on the ground beside him.

"Hook Nose roams our land to protect it. He cannot stay in one place long. Unless the weather turns, he will stay one moon, perhaps two. Then they will fight the white man again. The cold season comes, but you may return with the spring. Then we will share a fire again." He gave a smile to Sully to help him realize that the separation would not be forever. Sully nodded, then gave one of Black Kettle's hand signs for 'good'. Cloud Dancing broke into a wide grin and returned the hand gesture.

With a last blessing and a last word of encouragement on the tomahawk, Cloud Dancing sent Sully and Wolf on their way safely west away from the camp. Hook Nose's party was coming in from the east that very night, and the two would safely miss each other by hours. He sat at Sully's fire and looked at the empty area that once housed his friend. It would be a long winter without him to learn from and to talk to. He sat and burned some herbs at the fire, praying over the travelers. He decided it would be safer if he stayed at the lean-to for a night so that Hook Nose would not wonder about the lean-to and the evidence of a recent fire. Cloud Dancing would simply claim it as his own, where he had been communing with the spirits. Black Kettle had agreed with this explanation, and had been busy telling the tribe that Black Wolf was gone. Together, they covered their hospitality to the white man as if he had never been there.

That evening, the guns sounded from far off, scaring the children and old ones back into their tents in fear as hoofbeats approached like a terrible thunder across the plains. Hook Nose and his band of dog soldiers rode in, full of pride, shooting off the white man's guns in triumph. They each brought a second horse behind them that was laden with food and supplies stolen from nearby homes and from now dead settlers. As they dismounted, many stared in wonder at their uniform coats, now dirty and torn, that had been prizes off the bodies of dead union soldiers. Some wore soldiers hats, or carried their ceremonial swords. They shrieked and yelled, one or two of the horses rearing back before the tribe's fires with blazing eyes. The young braves rushed forward to take care of the sweating horses, and the dog soldiers took it upon themselves to sit themselves at the chief's fire to eat. Hook Nose, his warrior paint smeared and half gone, walked triumphantly to Black Kettle's tent.

Snow Bird and her sons stayed inside to prepare and eat their evening meal. She wanted to shield them from the wild stories the soldiers would tell of their conquests. She told her children she was not well, and they, much concerned, stayed close to watch and be with her while their father was outside of camp, praying to the spirits. She knew this would only delay them for a night, but she would deal with the temptation of being a glorified warrior tomorrow. Tonight, they would stay inside, while the dog soldiers would grow stupid and sleepy on the white man's fire water and talk around the fire until very late. Tomorrow, their heads would be quieted, and by then, Cloud Dancing would be back.

Cloud Dancing heard the commotion from far off. He stayed at Sully's fire, calming himself for the interruption that he knew would come. They would want their medicine man to bless them, tend to their wounds, and send the spirits blessings of thanks for their great fight against the white man. He would go in the morning. He would tell them that the spirits were going to bring him a vision of future attacks and that he must not leave the fire before morning. They would respect that; they would leave him be for the night.

As he watched the fire and waited, he thought of Sully. Sully was one who had a heart full of peace, just like Black Kettle. Granted, he had gone through horrific circumstances to reach that understanding in his heart, but now that he had shown the Indians that he desired peace, Cloud Dancing had to wonder…

Was he the only white man that wanted this?

How many had the dog soldiers killed that might have felt the same way?


	24. Chapter 24

For our own dear Sully, the trek away from his new home that late afternoon was a difficult one. From his ramblings around the camp and in the woods, he had remembered all the roads in and around Colorado Springs, and he knew where he was headed and how to get there. He had decided to head towards Manitou and try to winter over there. Many men worked their way through that area as trappers, and would, more often than not, simply regard him as another mountain man. He even had planned to try his hand at trapping, not only for food, but to get himself some money to pick up what he wouldn't be able to find naturally during the cold winter months.

But it wasn't the travel or the destination that weighed heavily on his heart. It was the sudden lonliness that he hadn't wanted to face again. In the short summer that he had spent with the Cheyenne, their strange manners and ways had become familiar to him, a comfort in the midst of a life that had ceased to make sense long ago. Though they looked much different than him, they had open minds towards him, and some had even made a step towards helping him understand their culture. It was their ability to take a chance on him that had given him a new lease on life. If they, a persecuted and misunderstood people, were willing to give him a chance, he had decided to give himself a chance. With their help, as he had regained his strength, his mind had re-focused, and he'd come to decide that this new chapter of his life was his to win or loose. He wanted to see what he could make of himself.

Now, just as he was picking up some words, picking up some traditions, he was being forced out. He had understood that Cloud Dancing merely wanted to make sure that Sully was safe. The dog soldiers sounded like a merciless band of warriors who acted first, asked questions later. He understood he wouldn't be able to convince them he meant no harm, but still, he left reluctantly. At least Cloud Dancing had come back to keep talking to him, to help him understand that this goodbye was not forever. He would be able to go back to the tribe and dwell among them again, and Sully clung to that hope.

As he walked through the darkening woods, passing serene logs covered in moss, he actually dreaded coming across his own people again. All summer, he'd gone mostly bare-chested and hadn't given any thought to his appearance. The days of his life being ones of pomade and razors seemed to be from a hundred years ago. He knew his hair was well beyond his collar now. When he washed, he felt the curls as his hair dryed, but didn't bother with it except to cut a bit away when it fell too far into his eyes. Cheyenne used nothing of mirrors, so he hadn't seen his reflection but faintly in the clear streams he fished in. Abigail wouldn't recognize him, that was for sure. Sully wasn't sure he recognized himself anymore either.

He watched Wolf pick his way down the path as they walked through the woods together. The tiny pup that he'd found high on the ridge was now several times his original size. Full of mischieif and wonderment, Wolf was always into things, ever the investigator. For now, Sully imagined Wolf merely thought they were hunting for dinner. He wondered if the creature missed its family, or if the family that had abandoned the helpless pup missed Wolf. One thing was for certain, Sully was glad he had abandoned the thought of having to return Wolf to a pack. When Cloud Dancing had made it seem like Sully had to leave the Cheyenne life forever, Sully could only foresee trouble for Wolf, and had thought of leaving him somewhere to reconnect with a pack, to be where he belonged. How that thought had torn at his heart! This little pup had grown to be such a part of his day, that Sully couldn't stand to think of doing things without the animal at his side. Now, with the promise of being able to return, Sully was content to keep Wolf and weather whatever odd receptions they might get in neighboring towns. He was a loyal friend. With the Cheyenne far behind him, Wolf was the only familiar friend on the road.

They camped that night under a large pine, Sully opting to eat a bit out of what Snow Bird had packed instead of scrounging for something in the waning light of day. They hadn't gone far, so they ate sparingly, and slept briefly. He drifted towards dreams thinking of times he had fallen asleep in the woods on his wild trek across country, so many months ago. He had hated the gnawing emptiness that troubled his sleep back then. With Wolf close beside him now, the gentle sounds of the woods at night lulled him.

Bright Spears came upon Black Wolf late that night from a safe distance. He had followed the white man's tracks until the light had failed, then had followed a deer trail through the thin moonlight, hoping to come upon his prey. There, the growing wolf cub slept at the white man's side, ready to snap to attention at the slightest sound, he was sure. The brave crept well around the two and bedded down where he was sure to be out of sight. Just a few more days, and he would pick his spot to attack. He hoped to catch the white man on unfamiliar ground where he would have the advantage. Then he would take on the clothes that held the smell of the white man and help the wolf grow accustomed to its new owner. Bright Spears patted his pack, full of tasty treats that had been smoked over his fire in secret. Surely the wolf couldn't resist such choice cuts of meat. After he had won the animal over, he would return to Hook Nose with proof of Black Wolf's death. All would revere and fear the great warrior who had won over the wolf for his own command. Hook Nose surely would not hesitate to have him in his band then.

He laid down to rest, a dagger in his hand, and dreamt of his victory.

The next day, Sully and Wolf traveled to the main road that would take them to Manitou. As long as Sully could keep sight of it from the trees, he preferred to walk the woods instead. Wolf made short work of a squirrel for breakfast, and Sully ate some bread from the pack, trying to hold out for something fresh later in the day. The trees afforded shade most of the morning, and he draped the red and black coat over the pack that was slung over his shoulder to carry it without wearing it.

Only once that morning, just as he had sat down to take a rest, did a wagon go by on the road. The loud clatter of the wheels and horses hooves startled Wolf, who crouched and growled at Sully's side until the wagon was well past. It occurred to Sully that Wolf had never experienced anything about other white men, or their modes of transportation. He pondered how he was going to make it into town if Wolf was going to growl and snap at every strange thing.

They worked on signals as they walked. Wolf didn't always listen just yet, and he wouldn't always look up to see hand signals. But when Sully tried snapping his fingers, that surely got Wolf's attention. They practiced all afternoon as they walked. Sully would lead Wolf left, then stop and try to snap his fingers and get Wolf to walk right. Soon, they were zig-zagging through the trees, and Wolf was beginning to understand some words. Sometimes, he even listened without the finger snapping. Sully promised himself to work hard to teach the animal to obey. If he had to go into Manitou and be around others, it would be imperative that he be able to control such a formidable creature. Then, even if others were afraid of Wolf, they would see he was well trained.

The sound of water drew Sully across the road to a stream, and they camped there for the night, feasting on fish and some plants Sully had gathered as they had walked. In the growing evening, he missed the fact that he couldn't hear the tribe members through the trees. At first, it had made him feel odd, like he was eavesdropping, but soon it grew to be a comfort. Other voices and sounds helped him to know that all was right on his end of the world.

The next day was more of the same, but Sully took time out to practice with Bright Spears tomahawk. He had felt horrible that he had been unable to catch on to Cloud Dancing's teaching, and was determined to master the throw Cloud Dancing showed him. Wolf eventually stopped playing to sit and watch his master, barking at him each time the weapon missed its mark.

"Ya don't have ta keep remindin' me." Sully finally said, patting the pup's head as he passed. Picking up the tomahawk, he returned to his spot. Frustrated, he was inclined to give up for the day, but he knew this would not honor his friend. As he stood there, he thought about Cloud Dancing, about what he might say at a time like this. He thought about how the medicine man would tell him to quiet himself, to hear that which was around him. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, the tomahawk heavy in his hand, and Sully listened to the quiet around him.

He began hefting the tomahawk handle in his hand, learning its feel without seeing it. Holding it by the blade, he would flip the handle around and catch it, listening to the slap of wood on skin, listening to the breeze through the undergrowth. He placed the weapon in his belt and whipped it out by feel, in case he should need it at night to protect himself. Instead of fighting it, he tried to learn all he could about it, so that he'd know the difference between it and some other weapon instinctively.

Most importantly, he listened to his friend's words in his mind and tried to separate the sounds of the tomahawk from the sounds of everything else, to hear what it did not sound like, to better know what it did sound like.

When it felt light and natural in his hand, he spun and threw, watching the fluid motion in his mind rather than letting the sights around him distract him. By feeling how it should go instead of watching someone else, Sully's aim was true. He heard a thud and opened his eyes. The tomahawk blade stuck deep into a nearby tree. Wolf gave a hearty bark and ran to the tree in delight.

Sully stood there and smiled. Was it a lucky shot? Who knew. But the connection to his weapon satisfied him even more than the improved throw. He dislodged the weapon and they moved on.

Bright Spears watched this from the scrubby undergrowth downwind from the pair. His eyes narrowed jealously as he watched his beloved tomahawk being used by Black Wolf. The initial embarrassing throws had humored him, but the sudden improvement angered him. He felt the new tomahawk at his own side, and became even more determined to bless it with the blood of his enemy. Unwilling to give away his position, he stayed there a long time, stewing about what he had seen. The white man was growing more formidable an opponent every day, which was only going to make the final fight more satisfying.


	25. Chapter 25

After a few days of rowdy celebrating and too much fire water, the group of dog soldiers felt refreshed enough to go out hunting for some fresh game. Many of the women were glad for the quiet to return to their camp, especially Snow Bird. She had been watching her sons closely to keep them from being too entranced with Hook Nose's stories and was exhausted in fighting his romancing of killing white men.

Black Kettle did not approve of their outright bloodshed, but he knew that, inevitably, his people would have to fight for the right to live on their land and maintain the old ways. He had heard stories from the dog soldiers of how the great white chief's army was capturing other tribes and forcing them in one place, keeping them like prisoners and calling it a reservation. Without the ability to roam free as the nomads of the land, they could not maintain their relationship with the buffalo, would not be able to feed their families during the cold winters, and would suffer greatly. And so Chief Black Kettle invited Hook Nose to share his fire and eat with him, and Hook Nose gave him items they had stolen from the white man in honor. They talked of what would have to be done, and their love of their people. It gave great pause to the chief to hear that, deep down, their hearts was not so entirely different.

Cloud Dancing was undisturbed at Sully's lean-to site, and had returned the next morning and began overseeing the many wounds and ailments the soldiers had acquired on their campaign. One had lost an eye and was in grave pain, but would survive. The soldiers had renamed him One Eye and the brave, who used to be known as Rushing Waters, felt so very proud to have gained such honor among his fellow warriors. He asked his medicine man to make sure the scar was deep so that all would know of his strength. Cloud Dancing spent a long night praying over his fire later that his sons would not develop such viewpoints of the white man. He prayed to the spirits to watch over Sully and allow him to return to the people so they could keep learning from each other.

Word of Bright Spears absence could not be kept silent for long, and the story was that he had gone in search of a great offering to make to Hook Nose. The dog soldiers thought this was fine, but his mother kept vigil constantly, hoping for his safe return at any moment. He was of age, had gone on his vision quest, and was considered to be a man in his own right, but she still wished she knew that he was not in danger. Some bet that he would return with a bear, or even another buffalo. Finally, late that evening, another bottle of fire water was passed around, and one of Bright Spears friends, who desperately wanted to be accepted, offered the information that his friend intended to return with the power of a tamed wolf.

Cloud Dancing was not far from the fire when he heard the young brave boast of this task to the dog soldiers. He knew in an instant what it meant, for there was only one tame wolf that any of the Cheyenne had ever encountered, and that was Sully's Wolf. A shadow fell over his heart as he thought about his new friend, trying to travel to safety, only to have a brash, young warrior tracking him with thoughts of taking Wolf away to gain the approval of Hook Nose. He said nothing to anyone, but walked through the trees and back to Sully's lean-to.

A few days later, after pushing hard along the road to Manitou, Sully and Wolf had bedded down in a clearing where the moss was soft, and Sully had found enough rocks to make a decent fire on which to cook the rabbit he'd caught. It hadn't been much, but there was enough for both of them to share. Wolf was growing fast and now often caught little animals of his own while they traveled, but Sully hated to not share some of the rabbit with his little friend.

Unknown to Sully, A fog had settled in during the night. With the help of his new coat, he was bundled up snugly against the cold damp that covered the clearing that morning. Sully did not hear Wolf get up, either. After two nights of hard ground, the clearing was so comfortable that Sully was deeply asleep until the metallic click above his head brought him back to consciousness.

In a flash, his hand was on his tomahawk as he woke up to see a tall man looming over him with a gun pointed straight at his head.

"Wouldn't move if I's you, mister." Came a slow, smug drawl that rang in his head from long ago. In the fog, this man was nothing but a tall shadow.

"Whayda want?" Sully asked. "I ain't done nothin'." He laid the tomahawk out in front of him to show the man that he didn't have a gun. There was a silence between the two as the blade of Bright Spears weapon glinted in the first rays of dawn.

"Injuns. What dirty injun lays out in a bright red coat, huh?" The stranger side stepped around the extinguished fire and reached for the tomahawk with his boot, kicking it well out of Sully's reach.

"I'm just travelin' to Manitou." Sully tried to explain. "Figured on doin' some trappin'." With the stranger now standing even closer, Sully raised his hands to show he was now defenseless.

"Figured on gitten' away with the town's money's how I figured it." The stranger was still thrown in dangerous shadows under the wide brimmed hat he wore, and the menacing gun didn't help, either. Only that strange drawl kept nagging at Sully's earliest memories. The stranger kicked at Sully's leg. "Git up." As Sully stood, the stranger gave him a hard shove in the back, and he almost went face first into the nearest tree. His hands met the cold, rough bark an instant before his face hit the trunk, and his first thought was to turn around and lunge at the stranger, but the threat of the loaded gun kept him still. He'd been in skirmishes with drunk men before, in his mining days, and when they got riled, out came the guns and someone usually got shot. Sully figured if he could try and help calm the man down, he might get some time to figure out a way to escape.

"Where's yore horse?" The stranger demanded to know, grabbing at his waist to check for a hidden gun along his belt.

"Don't ride." Sully said. This made the stranger actually laugh, and it was an old raspy laugh that brought a strange thought to mind. Sully slowly turned around, keeping his back to the tree.

"An injun that don't ride! You must'a got'em hid well, cuz you shore rode outta town fast after cleaning out the general store." The gun leveled at Sully's head, and as the stranger turned a bit, the first rays of dawn, filtering through the fog, gave light to the stranger's face.

"Was I wearin' this bright red coat when I did it?" Sully asked, his jaw clenched in anger. The two looked at each other a moment, and in the silence, Sully began to make out a cascade of long blonde hair coming out the back of the man's hat. It helped solidify his memory that this might indeed be Hank Lawson, from Colorado Springs. There was something about his unique drawl that he'd always attributed to Hank.

"I ain't gonna ask again." Hank said, threatening by coming a step closer.

"Where were Lauren and Maude at the time of this theft?" Sully asked, hoping to throw Hank off with some details. "Or were they visitin' Miss Olive before she leaves for her ranch down south?" The gun wavered just a bit. Sully gave a thought to Wolf, and hoped that, wherever he was, that this first encounter with another white man was scary enough that he stayed hid. He would hate for Hank to shoot Wolf if he came out now trying to protect his master.

"Thought you'd make a clean gitaway by findin' out about us?" Hank challenged. Sully sighed, seeing that his line of questions wasn't clear enough to spell things out.

"Hank." Sully said, swallowing hard. "It's Sully. _Abigail's_ Sully." He knew as soon as he revealed his identity that it would be a hard sell because his looks had changed so much. The last time Sully remembered being in town to see Hank was shortly before Abigail's time, though he never went into the saloon. He'd stopped in to pick up something from Robert E. They'd passed on the street as Hank was probably on his way to pick up a fresh case of whiskey. He was clean shaven then, with short hair and a fresh shirt. He wasn't surprised that his long hair confused Hank now. In the foggy morning, every minute he could stall Hank from shooting would allow him to prove his innocence.

"Maude gave Abigail a parcel of land against Lauren's wishes when we wed. I built our homestead on it, just outside of town. Jake was on a bender the day she and I came to tell Lauren our intentions and Jake and I came ta blows outside the general store over stealing Abigail away from Martin Anderson. You broke things up and shoved Jake into the trough." Sully winced over the memory. "Punched me so hard I almost passed out." The two men stood there a few long, tense minutes. Sully said a small prayer to whatever Great Spirit might be listening. Finally, the trigger of the gun clicked back into place as Hank lowered his weapon.

"Thought you must be dead by now." Hank said in a curious tone, almost of amusement. "What's with the getup?"

"Just tryin' ta start my life over." Sully said. He knew better than to breathe a word of the Cheyenne because the townsfolk had never been friendly towards them. Talk of Indians, especially around a guy like Hank, was talk that would surely bring the gun back out. Even his dear, sweet Abigail had been deathly afraid of Indians. Another silence stretched out between them as they regarded each other. The two men had never seen eye to eye on most things, but had given each other respectful berth in town.

"You see anyone else hidin' out, they cleaned Lauren out and I intend to make'em pay." Hank said with a scoff, turning and walking back towards the road. "If you find the guy first, wire me from Manitou. Wouldn't bring the money back ta town if I's you…lookin' like _that_…"

Sully stayed where he was, his heart still hammering in his chest over the sight of the gun pointed in his face. Without another word, the figure disappeared into the fog and Sully was alone again. He slowly slumped down against the tree, wondering if he could truly be able to make it to Manitou and spend the winter among such hardened men as Hank. He had never intended to meet anyone from Colorado Springs again, but if he had to guess, the last person he thought he would meet up with in the woods was Hank Lawson. Putting a hand to his hammering heart, he felt Cloud Dancing's necklace that had been hidden under his coat. He thanked his friend for the protection. He surely had needed it.

At the sound of Hank's horse riding off, Sully began to turn, thinking he'd see Wolf creeping up now that things were quiet again. But Wolf was nowhere to be seen.

The tantalizing trail of fresh blood that Bright Spears had carefully laid easily led Wolf out of harms way before Hank Lawson even stumbled onto Sully's camp that foggy morning. Once the brave had been close enough, he'd tossed out a small piece of meat. Wolf had been compelled to investigate the noise, and, upon finding the fresh meat, hunted around for another morsel. Bright Spears was well out of reach by then, but had dripped blood along the woods easy enough for anyone to trail, especially Wolf. As the growing pup hunted down his prey, the warrior had a carcass waiting that was rubbed with the medicine man's potion to aid in sleep. He had asked for it a moon ago, and Cloud Dancing had given him enough to last for quite a while.

Watching from a ways up in a tree, Bright Spears waited upwind while Wolf happily ate his breakfast. He was only halfway through the meat when he started to languish there in the fallen leaves. The warrior bided his time until the wolf's head fell to the ground and the breathing was slow and even. Then, he climbed down from his perch, secured Wolf's muzzle with leather cords, and carried his prize off a ways to where he'd secured a small rock outcropping. There, he intended to keep Wolf tied until the animal depended on only Bright Spears for food. With the beast out of the way, he would go back, track Black Wolf down, and kill him. With the clothes of the white man, the wolf would come to regard the young brave as his old master, and then they would both return to Hook Nose.

He marveled at the body of the young wolf as he laid it back among the soft grasses he'd laid in the entrance to the small cave. It was larger now than when Black Wolf had brought it to Black Kettle, but soon it would be many times larger. He dreamed of it running with his horse on the way to a battle, of how it would tear the flesh of any white man Bright Spears commanded it to attack. It would be the most feared weapon of all, and they would surely regard him as a mighty warrior now.

Reverently, he petted the fur.

Then, he made sure that the fence he'd lashed together was tight against the rocks to keep Wolf hidden out of the way.


	26. Chapter 26

No amount of calling or finger snapping or even whistling would bring Wolf from his hiding place. Sully, exhausted and worried, sat at the base of the tree where he had encounter Hank Lawson an hour before. He tried to think of what possibly could have happened to Wolf. There had been a time when he had thought he would have had to of returned Wolf to the wild and gone on alone. Now that he was alone, he had a sick feeling inside of him that this was not something Wolf had chosen on his own.

In a moment of desperation, Sully reverted to his sniper tactics he'd learned in the army and climbed the tree to get a bird's eye view of the situation. He thought that, perhaps if he could see more of the area, he would be able to spot a track or something that Wolf might have gone to investigate. The tree was quite tall and the first branch was about twenty feet in the air. Once Sully reached this height, he sat himself on the arm of the mighty tree and laid against it to lower his line of sight to just below the leaves. Then, he thought of his medicine man friend, and cleared his mind of everything that couldn't be a clue, so he might better be able to see what a clue could be.

On the fourth careful scan of the area, Sully began to pick out a dark line in the leaf litter below the tree. It seemed to head off to his left, but was very slight. He couldn't even be sure of what it was until he came down out of the tree to see some of the leaves up close. It could be just the way a shadow was falling as the mid morning sun was coming through the trees now. But, other than that, there was absolutely no sign of anything out of the ordinary that could possibly have lured Wolf away from camp on such a damp, foggy morning. He had to climb down and check the leaves closely.

Once Sully was back on the ground, it became clear soon enough that the discoloration that created a line was not merely a shadow but tiny drops of blood. The drops were dark and dried, no longer sticky, and Sully feared that perhaps Wolf had injured himself and had gone off to nurse his wounds somewhere he felt was safe. But upon looking at the track, he could see that the drops were quite close together and not spaced out as if Wolf had been walking. And at the beginning of the line, there was no other sign of blood anywhere near where he had camped the night before. There was no sign of a struggle anywhere, either.

_ 'If Wolf had caught something, or tangled with another animal this close, surely I'd have heard some kind of noise in the night.'_ Sully thought to himself. The trail of blood seemed deliberate. _'What on Earth would bleed on purpose to lure a dangerous creature like a wolf, of all animals?'_

Sully stood there in the clearing, one of the bloody leaves twirling between his fingers. He looked off in the direction where the drops seemed to go. There was no such creature more cunning and dangerous than a wolf. Nothing hunted wolves. This couldn't have been another animal. If a wounded animal had come from that direction into his camp, Wolf would've finished it off right there and ate it by the fire, next to Sully. Surely, Sully would have woken to the sounds of Wolf killing and eating the animal. And no animal could've walked through camp without waking Wolf, then spontaneously started bleeding, and walked off to make Wolf go hunt in that direction, that didn't make any sense either. Could it have been a bird?

Sully looked up, but the branches overhead were such that he couldn't imagine any large bird of prey flying so low, especially on such a foggy night as last night. Even if it had been a hawk with a meal in its claws, the drops of blood wouldn't be so close together. Any bird would've flown too fast, and the drops would be more spread out. The only answer to the blood was a man. Only men feared and hated animals like the wolf to care enough to lure it away. He couldn't imagine a guy like Hank would be quiet enough to tromp through the woods to set up such an elaborate plan. Any white man would've simply shot Wolf from the road as soon as they had a clear shot. No, it had to be an Indian. The Cheyenne were the only Indians he knew, but all of them could cross the woods without causing a sound.

Taking a few steps in the direction of the blood trail, Sully stopped and went back for his pack. Which one of them could've decided to lure Wolf away? They had told him they had a healthy respect and fear of the wolves that lived near their people. They had all been very afraid of Wolf until Black Kettle had shown them that Wolf's soul and Sully's soul were linked. Even afterwards, they had kept clear of Wolf.

Deciding it couldn't be for a good reason, Sully decided against his first instinct and, instead of following the blood trail in the leaves like he wanted, he climbed back into the tree instead and hid his pack amongst the leaves. He rolled up his red and black coat from Little One and stuffed it in a higher crook of the tree, cutting a branch to hide its color. Then, once he was settled, he waited to see who was going to come back for him.

_ 'The only reason someone would separate me from Wolf would be to hurt either one of us. If I don't see anyone today, I will know they meant to take Wolf away and hurt him. But if someone comes back, I'll know they're looking for me.'_ Sully thought to himself. He worried the dog soldiers could have gotten word from the tribe that the Cheyenne people had allowed a white man to infiltrate their village while they had been off hunting to protect their lands from the same white man. Would they have gone to such lengths to hunt him down and teach him a lesson? Could they have hurt anyone in the tribe for befriending Sully? He worried that something could have happened to Snow Bird and Cloud Dancing, his new friends. They had done nothing but shown him kindness. It would break his heart if their help had caused their own warriors to turn against them.

For Cloud Dancing, it was a time of turmoil. He had taken his concern of what he heard to Black Kettle, hoping to get his chief to realize that Sully was in danger and needed their help. But the chief would not consent to allow his medicine man, or any other tribe member, to follow after Black Wolf and make sure that he was safe. He kindly explained to Cloud Dancing that they needed the protection of the dog soldiers more than they needed the white man, as kind as he was. Black Kettle promised to send his own prayer to the Great Spirit for Black Wolf's sake, in hopes that Bright Spears wasn't going after Wolf and that the two could return safely in the spring. But he would not allow anyone to go find Bright Spears or help save Black Wolf if he was in trouble.

Cloud Dancing thought of leaving to go help Sully no matter what Black Kettle had said. However, after talking the whole matter over with his wife, he realized that his sons needed his guidance more than Sully needed protecting. The dog solders talk made them all want to be strong warriors, and Snow Bird feared she would loose her family to the white man's war. They both talked to their children in turn, explaining the white man's guns and sicknesses. Cloud Dancing even promised to commune with the spirits and promised to deliver any messages to his children, good or bad. This they accepted, but it did not stop them from watching the men sharpen their weapons or practice their fighting. When dog soldiers horses rode in and out of camp, they still flew outside to see the mighty warriors going by.

Hook Nose, in particular, was stirring up trouble as he kept prodding the friends of Bright Spears to tell him when the young warrior would return with the mystical wolf. He had heard nothing but talk and had seen nothing of the young brave, and grew tired with the promises his friends made. Instead, he took an intense interest in the maiden that Bright Spears had begun to share his blanket with only a week before Hook Nose and his band had come back to camp. Hook Nose paid her much attention and talked often with her of his conquests. Soon, the tribe murmured that Hook Nose was looking to take Bright Spears maiden for his own. To those who took their concerns to their chief, Black Kettle promised them he would speak to the maiden's family and be sure that the attention was nothing more than talk between two tribe members. He would not stand for such a fine young girl to be led to do dark things simply because Hook Nose lured her with fire water.

Unable to wait for Black Wolf to appear, Bright Spears went in search of his prey that afternoon. Taking careful measure to listen for the white man to be approaching, it took him quite a while to backtrack all the way back to where Black Wolf had made camp the night before. With his new tomahawk in hand, he crept through the undergrowth in search of the red and black coat. But the white man was nowhere in sight. At the camp, Black Wolf's things were picked up and gone as well. Bright Spears saw a clear track where the leaves had been kicked back as Black Wolf had gone towards the road.

This made Bright Spears laugh to himself. Why would the wolf have gone towards the road? The mere thought that the white man had started his search in that direction was proof that he did not deserve to have the wolf at his side. Bright Spears followed the track to the road and back. He could not travel too far and leave the wolf alone, so for today, he would leave Black Wolf to wander the woods in confusion. Bright Spears couldn't imagine him going far without his little friend.

After double-checking the area, Bright Spears kicked at the leaves with the blood trail on them as he made his way back. Sully watched from the tree and saw the direction that Bright Spears went. Even with the blood trail gone, Sully now knew what direction to head in to follow and most surely find Wolf. His instinct had been correct that only an Indian could have come up to his camp so quietly. The fact that Bright Spears had been the one to return, the same brave that had challenged him the day he had come into the Cheyenne camp, further convinced him that the young warrior meant him harm.

Sully felt for the old tomahawk that rested on his hip as he kept his silent spot high in the tree. The young brave had been none too pleased to have lost his prized weapon to the white man. He must want it back. Sully would gladly take it to him in exchange for Wolf. He hadn't wanted to take the deadly thing in the first place, but Cloud Dancing had insisted it was a part of some important tradition.

Carefully gathering his things and making his way out of the tree as quietly as he could, Sully was glad that he had taken the time to cover his own tracks, but had left Hank's there. Bright Spears had found Hanks footprints and had assumed they were Sully's. With what little daylight remained, Sully tracked Bright Spears until the light was fading and he had to stop. Then he backed far away from the trail and hid in a thicket to sleep.

He felt the necklace Cloud Dancing had given him as he lay down alone that night. He had not slept without Wolf at his side since the day they had met each other high on the ridge, when Wolf's paw was injured. Sully thought of the spirits that were protecting him through the necklace. Poor Wolf had nothing. So Sully prayed in the darkness. He asked the spirits to send a sign to Cloud Dancing so that he could do something to help Wolf. Sully thought that the medicine man's prayers would mean more than his own.

"I'm gonna getcha back, boy." Sully whispered the promise into the night.


	27. Chapter 27

That next morning, a bug walking across Sully's face woke him from a heavy sleep. As he gathered his thoughts quietly, he remained hidden in the thicket, listening. He did not want to make any noise too early, because if Bright Spears hadn't left to track down Sully yet, he might hear. Sully had to assume Bright Spears had camped nearby for the night. He had made no fire and cooked no food, so there was no easy way to tell where the brave had rested. However, light had been fading fast when Sully found the thicket last night, so he couldn't have walked much further.

Over an hour passed, and Sully was getting desperate to move when movement caught his eye far to his left. The hide was as brown as the trees, but the height and dark hair suggested an Indian, not a deer. Sully watched until the movement was gone, disappearing behind a gentle slope that was thick with bushes. Bright Spears was being careful not to backtrack the exact way he'd come the night before. The brave was hunting very carefully, which made the former sniper uneasy. Sully gave him credit for wanting to sneak up on a poor white man. A grin barely touched his mouth as he congratulated himself on being one step ahead of the young warrior.

Sully left his thicket hiding place after another few minutes to relieve himself and grab a quick emergency breakfast from his pack. He dared not cook anything or do much to give himself away to the Indian that was hunting for him. His thoughts drifted thankfully Snow Bird for just a moment, who had so carefully packed the food. When he was sure enough time had passed that Bright Spears would be out of earshot, he decided to walk to the right of the gentle slope. If Bright Spears had come from that way, perhaps Wolf might be nearby.

The spirits themselves were on his side as Sully carefully walked the woods that morning. After only a few minutes of searching for Bright Spears track, a cry sounded through the tree branches. It froze Sully in his tracks and he tried to pinpoint where the sound had been coming from. He heard it again and was sure that it was the cry of a wolf! His heart began to beat harder as he tried to quietly hurry through the dead leaves. If he was able to hear it, surely Bright Spears had picked up on the sound as well. He might come back and try to keep Wolf quiet somehow. Sully had to hurry and be the first to get back to his friend.

Sully tried to replay the sound in his mind as he searched for Wolf. Had it sounded like a cry of pain? Was Wolf truly out hunting and not captured by Bright Spears at all? But the third time he heard it, not only was it closer, but it merely sounded like a lost and lonely cry, not the howl of a triumphant wolf after a kill or the painful yelp of an injured animal. As he rushed towards the sound, Sully pulled out the tomahawk het put it past him to have doubled back to wherever he had Wolf hidden in order to wait for Sully to walk into his trap.

Long minutes of searching passed. Sully would take a break every few minutes to hide behind some ground cover or behind a huge tree and watch his back for signs of the brave. He didn't hear Wolf again, but after doubling back on his own tracks, he tried a different direction and found Bright Spears trail, almost hidden by the leaves. In no time, Sully followed a winding path that led to a natural stone outcropping.

When Sully happened upon it, he stopped. The stones reminded him of the places he used to hide in the days immediately following his abandonment of his sniper post. He had spent tense days sleeping away under rocks similar to these while waiting for the cover of darkness to return. Circling the outcropping, he came around to an opening where there were several sticks jammed into the ground. As he quietly crept up to the opening, Sully glanced inside and was relieved to see Wolf crouched in the far corner. Once the two saw each other, they met at the bars, one on each side. Wolf began whimpering happily and pacing in the small, confined area, reaching to lick Sully's hand.

"Don't worry, boy, I'll get you out." Sully whispered, ever watching his back in case Bright Spears should come down upon him from some secret hiding place. As he managed to pull one stick out of the ground, Wolf immediately pushed forward to squirm through the small hole. Sully had to pet his young friend while pushing him back so he could continue removing the sticks. Wolf, however, was sure he could get out. Sully pulled some dried meat from his pack to appease Wolf while he finished freeing him. But with one sniff of what was offered, Wolf backed away and whimpered. It made no sense to Sully, who then took a bite of it to show that the meat was good. But Wolf would not take it.

Sighing, Sully held the rest of the meat in his mouth while he wrestled with the sticks. Once he had removed two more, the hole at the edge of the stone outcropping was large enough for Wolf to wiggle through. The two friends almost hugged each other at the reunion.

"Missed ya too." He whispered. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he drew Wolf around the opposite side of the outcropping, and Sully watched for Bright Spears. The woods were almost too quiet as Sully nervously finished the dried meat with one hand while petting Wolf with the other. Wolf nosed into Sully's pack and fished out a piece of bread that Snow Bird had packed. He immediately laid down in the leaves to eat it. Sully watched, shaking his head at the odd behavior.

After a few more minutes of silent watching, Sully caught Bright Spears coming towards the stone outcropping from the far right of the treeline. It was far from where he'd left earlier. Where Sully had first seen the brave that morning had been to the far left of where he'd imprisoned Wolf. The tomahawk felt heavy as he brought it to the ready, then placed it back in his belt. Bright Spears was definitely coming back to check on his prisoner. Wolf, who had since finished his pilfered piece of bread, pinned his ears back and silently waited.

Knowing that he couldn't hide from Bright Spears forever, Sully waited until the warrior was close enough to see his makeshift cage had been pulled apart, then he stood up to reveal himself. Wolf was right behind him, growling at his side. The eyes of the young brave went cold with fury at the sight of the white man he was destined to kill. Sully swallowed hard at the sight. He tried to think of the Cheyenne pronunciation of Bright Spears name, but could only think of the hand gesture that Black Kettle had taught him to indicate that he wanted peace.

Slowly raising his hands to show he wasn't about to throw a weapon, Sully made the sign for peace. But the warrior's eyes narrowed at the pitiful request and held up his new tomahawk instead. He spoke Cheyenne, and his angry voice was a bit hard to understand, but Sully thought he picked up the word 'death' from what had been said. He remembered the sound of the word as Cloud Dancing had recounted Owl Through The Trees passing. Sully hoped he was misunderstanding the words.

Speaking their word for 'friend' brought another loud and angry oath from Bright Spears. Wolf barked outright, and Sully snapped his fingers to indicate his small friend should stay where he was. The command to Wolf brought more words from the brave, and Sully only understood 'spirits' and 'wolf'. He didn't want to speak English because he wanted to show honor to the Cheyenne by only using what he knew of their language. He thought perhaps English would be insulting to Bright Spears who was already very angry.

Sully was trying to think of some other way to indicate he wanted no trouble, when the brave yelled and charged. With no time to do anything but react, Sully began wrestling with him. It came down to a battle of wills between the two men; there was no more willingness to talk. Bright Spears was younger and a bit faster than Sully and was quickly able to turn and push Sully's back up against the sticks that had created Wolf's cage. Wanting to join the fight, Wolf quickly inserted himself by attacking the braves buckskin pants. With a mighty kick, Bright Spears sent Wolf flying off with a shout. Wolf landed with a pained yelp in the leaves several feet away.

The injury to his friend was more than he could bear. Sully overpowered and punched Bright Spears, creating distance between the two. Catching his breath, the brave immediately charged back, but this time, Sully had room. Using his leg as leverage, Sully threw him over and onto the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs. As the young warrior sputtered and struggled, Sully kept a hold of his arm, trying to pin him down, but a hand somehow shot out and grabbed Sully's leg, taking away his balance. He landed hard on the ground next to the Indian, who was instantly on top of him, trying to strangle him.

There was no thought in Sully's mind about why Bright Spears was doing this. He simply attributed it to the misunderstandings between their people and operated on pure instinct. He had done his share of fighting throughout his life, and, although he had never enjoyed it, Sully knew enough to know he was in a loosing position. As Bright Spears was occupied with tightening his grip around Sully's throat, Sully reached for the tomahawk still in his belt. Pulling it out, he tried to brandish it in front of Bright Spears face before he passed out. As soon as the blade came between the faces of the two men, the brave relinquished his hold on Sully's throat with one hand to tried to grab the tomahawk with the other. Sully didn't want to use the weapon, he simply wanted a distraction. Bright Spears, however, took it very seriously.

The warrior groaned and gritted his teeth as he started turning the weapon in Sully's hand so the deadly blade was pointed back at the white man's own face. Gasping for air and trying to overpower the Indian's superior position, Sully started to sweat as he saw the blade inch closer to his neck. He vowed he would not kill Bright Spears, because then he would never be able to rejoin the Cheyenne tribe. Loosing the friendship of Cloud Dancing was too important. Cloud Dancing and Snow Bird were like the only family he'd come to rely on since Abigail's death. But it was becoming clear Bright Spears would not stop until Sully's blood was spilled.

Again using momentum, Sully gave a great push to Bright Spears arms, then rocked out of the way as he let the brave's full weight come bearing down on the tomahawk. The blade came crashing down, hitting the ground right next to Sully's right ear as he rolled left to avoid being hit. With Bright Spears leaning on the blade for a second, Sully took his chance and suddenly rolled right, pushing the warrior off of him while finally gaining the upper position. The two men left he deadly weapon lodged into the ground as they continued their hand to hand struggle in the leaves.

Raining blows down in an attempt to knock the Indian out, Sully caught his breath, the sting of each punch growing less and less as his hands went numb with pain. Bright Spears, unable to push the heavier Sully off of him, pelted Sully's side with the heavy hands of a warrior who had practiced his fighting among the other tribe members. Knowing it was only a matter of seconds before his ribs were broken and Bright Spears got the upper hand again, Sully reached for the tomahawk handle in desperation. Flipping it quickly in the air so he was then holding the blade, he whipped the brave across the head with the wooden handle. The Indian was knocked unconscious, and the wickedly hard blows stopped. His body relaxed and Sully pushed off to stagger to his feet, panting and sweating.

Throwing the tomahawk in disgust, Sully turned to look for Wolf. Wolf had gone back to Sully's pack to hide from the fighting. His tail wagged when he saw that Sully was returning to him, although he remained laying down. Stumbling, Sully fell next to Wolf and the two shared a furry embrace while shaking with relief. As Sully tried to pet Wolf's side gently, the animal yelped in pain from where the brave had kicked him.

"I'm sorry, boy." Sully whispered. "So sorry."

Giving Wolf another piece of bread, Sully took what rope he had from his supplies and went back to the unconscious warrior. Tying his arms and legs tightly, he figured that it would be the only way to keep them both alive. Sully's hands were tingly and weak from the battle, and he hoped he was making the knots tight enough to hold. His whole body was exhausted, but he dared not stop until he was sure there was no way that Bright Spears could get free from his bonds. He had to get them both back to the tribe in one piece. What might happen from there would be at the hands of the Cheyenne. But as long as Sully could get them both back to Cloud Dancing, he would be able to translate the young brave's intentions and help Sully understand what had happened.

Finding some rawhide among the Indian's own hunting pack, Sully used that too to reinforce his bonds. When he was done, the young brave looked like a crazy wrapped up bundle. His legs and arms were pulled behind him so that there was no way he could straighten up to stand or move.

Knowing there would be no traveling that day, Sully pulled all the sticks out of the makeshift cage Wolf had been trapped in to build a fire. The insides of some of the sticks had been scratched raw from claws desperate to escape. Sully's throat tightened at the sight. Wolf had tried his best to get free and return to his friend. He happily destroyed the wooden fence, the blaze a comfort after the terrible events that had transpired. Before he knew it, he was passed out from exhaustion, his small friend once again happily beside him.


End file.
